


Roll Out the Red Carpet

by Lorien, Quarra, talkplaylove-art (talkplaylove)



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Captain America (Movies)
Genre: AKA Hydra is bad news folks, Actor AU, Actor Steve Rogers, Art Embedded, Awesome First Date, Bucky Barnes is the Most Dramatic Bitch, Captain America Big Bang 2018 | cabigbang, Drama, Fluff, General umbrella of winter soldier trauma, Humor, Kinda Cracky, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, SO MUCH FLUFF, Sexual Content, Some Action, Sorry no smut this time, The sexual content is some brief but explicit fantasties, To the poor Graham Norton Show Intern that is forced to look through his tag on Ao3...I am so sorry, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, meet ugly, mildly nsfw images, non-specific mentions of torture/human trafficking/drugs/medical experimentation, reference to past torture, some violence, there's some ass showing is what I'm saying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-19
Updated: 2018-10-19
Packaged: 2019-08-04 04:41:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 29,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16340033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lorien/pseuds/Lorien, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quarra/pseuds/Quarra, https://archiveofourown.org/users/talkplaylove/pseuds/talkplaylove-art
Summary: The premiere for Steve Rogers' newest Captain America movie was just around the corner, and Steve knew it was going to be a hit. The big downside was that he had to have a date. The last several times he'd brought someone to an event like this, things had ranged from unpleasant to disastrous. In a last ditch effort to get out of taking someone that might make his night hell, Steve went on Twitter and invited the Winter Soldier to be his plus one.The Soldier was an international fugitive, and currently wanted for a series of high profile attacks on corrupt businessmen. Since every person the Soldier attacked was involved in some truly vile criminal activity, the public loved him, despite his crimes. Inviting him to the premiere was the perfect cop out. There was no way he was ever going to show.Right?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Author: [Quarra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quarra/works)  
> Artists: [Talkplaylove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/talkplaylove/pseuds/talkplaylove-art), [Lorien](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lorien/pseuds/Lorien)
> 
> Author's note:  
> Hey there folks! This has been a wild ride to get this done, but here we go! A big thanks to my artists for being WONDERFUL and AMAZING and creating not just one, but several lovely, fantastic works of art. YOU TWO ARE THE BEES KNEES. Another huge thank you to [Xantissa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xantissa/pseuds/xantissa) and [RemingtonFae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RemingtonFae/pseuds/RemingtonFae) for beta-ing and cheerleading! THANK YOU!

  
_(Image by Talkplaylove)_

“No, Sam. I’m done. I don’t care how amazing she is or who she’s related to or which studio wants to pair us together. I am not being shoehorned into another awful date,” Steve snarled into his phone.

Sam didn’t deserve getting snapped at. He didn’t. He was just doing his job as Steve’s agent and best friend; making connections to keep the acting jobs flowing. But Steve was so fucking tired of the whole song and dance. 

It was the same every time. Steve would get invited to some event, either because he was a nominee or because he was presenting, or both, and he’d always get a plus one on his invitation. The next two months would be nothing but jockeying. Anyone and everyone had an opinion on who he should be going with and no matter who he picked it always ended badly. 

Best case scenario, he would spend the whole evening watching what he said and how he acted every second. If he was lucky, nothing would end up in the tabloids in the morning. Or squirreled away for some ill conceived blackmail attempt later. 

Worst case scenario, the shark on his arm would try and force physical intimacy on him. It always started small. Little hugs. Roving hands. Affections he dare not protest to because who knew what connections his date might have herself. Most times it stopped there, but the last time…

The last time he had to put a stop to things before they got too far, and he paid the price. She went straight to the paparazzi with her story. There was a month and a half long gossip rag smear about how he’d had a lover’s spat, and two of the jobs he’d been set to audition for dried up and blew away. Too risky to take on someone with a bad reputation. Sam had been an angel through all of it, and eventually everyone found something new to chatter about. 

Steve liked to think he was a reasonably intelligent man, and that shitshow was a mistake he did not want to make again.

“Steve, come on,” Sam said, his voice tipping between coaxing and exasperation, “this is Sharon Carter we’re talking about here. The grand-niece of Peggy Carter, former owner of Shield. This is a dream date. Think of the connections she’s got---”

“Yeah, I am thinking of her connections,” Steve replied acidly.

“Look. Everything I’ve heard, Sharon is a dream. Polite. Nice. Mind on her job. An absolute professional. No way would she give you any problems.”

Steve paced back and forth across his apartment living room. He knew all that, actually. Sharon was extremely popular in the action movie set. Given his popularity playing Captain America, he figured it was only a matter of time before someone found a role for Sharon to play in that franchise. It would behoove him to play nice.

But he just couldn’t do it. Not so soon after that last fiasco. Not even with someone who might only see him as another career stepping stone, just another connection to be made.

Maybe some other time, but not for this one. This was the premiere of his latest Captain America movie, and he knew it would be the best one yet. Solid, fast paced, and deeply suspenseful, Captain America: Man Out of Time was as much a profound character study as it was a commentary on the nature of war and the passage of time. Steve couldn’t be more proud to be a part of it. 

Which is why he especially _did not want_ this premiere tainted by the shadows of dozens of past bad experiences. He’d rather just go alone. 

“Sam. No.” The remark was said as softly and firmly as he could manage. Sam didn’t deserve his frustration.

A deep sigh came over the phone. 

“Alright,” Sam said. “You do you. But you realize you’re gonna get some flack for not bringing anyone.” They both knew that Steve didn’t have anyone personal to invite. No family left alive and all of his friends were either already invited to the premiere or in the middle of shoots across the globe. 

“I’ll think of something.” 

He could practically see Sam shaking his head. 

“You let me know when you do. G’night, Steve.”

“G’night, Sam. Talk to you tomorrow.”

He tossed his cell phone onto an end table and collapsed onto his sofa with a sigh. For lack of anything better to do, Steve turned on the TV and started to channel surf. Chances of finding something worth watching were slim, but the background noise helped ease the irritation. When he got to the news channels, he slowed down, lingering on each channel before finally stopping. 

There was another story about the Winter Soldier on. Apparently, this time he’d assassinated some high profile business guy; CEO of Kronas Corp. He waited just long enough for the authorities to get there and left them with a huge amount of evidence showing Kronos’ involvement with human trafficking. Seems he’d mailed the same evidence to all the major media outlets too, just in case. 

The federal government was in a frenzy over this guy, calling him everything from terrorist to psycho to monster. While it was true his kill count was nothing to scoff at, as far as Steve, and most of the public for that matter, could tell everyone who the Soldier went after was involved in some deeply horrific things. Drugs. Trafficking. Terrorism. Human experimentation. The list went on. So as much as the feds wanted this guy, the public had been hugely supportive. 

More than once Steve had been tempted to make a statement supporting the Soldier’s actions. Plenty of others had already. There was a huge movement online of folks trying to get the Soldier some kind of legal support. Local and state law enforcement officers seemed to be quiet as hell on the subject. Probably torn between cheering and facepalming, truth be told. 

Steve hummed to himself for a moment and stuck out his jaw. He had an idea. One that would neatly solve most of his problems. A slow smile spread across his face.

He grabbed his cell phone and started typing. 

Sam was going to fucking kill him.

\--

“What the _fuck_ , Steve?” Sam shouted into the phone. It had only taken about 12 hours for Sam to figure out what Steve had done. Honestly, Steve was a little surprised he got that long. So he was sort of expecting the 6am call. Given that nothing could be done about things now, he wasn’t even mad about the wake up. “The fuck are you thinking!”

“G’morning, Sam,” Steve said groggily. 

“The Winter Soldier, Steve? You went on twitter and invited the Winter fucking Soldier to join you at the premiere? Really? That’s your plan?”

Steve sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes. Despite everything, he couldn’t keep a grin off his face. “Sam, it’s perfect. Think about it. There’s no way the Soldier is ever gonna actually show. It’s the perfect excuse for not having a date.”

“Yeah, it’s an excuse and everyone will see right through it,” Sam grumbled. Steve knew that he was probably cursing the day that Steve got a twitter account. 

“Only the people in the industry. The fans are gonna go nuts over it. PR out the roof.” The fact that Sam had already moved on to just quietly bitching was a good sign. While the stuff about the PR was true, it was also a good way to help sweeten Sam’s temper. Everything Steve did to endear himself to the fans only made Sam’s life easier. Popular actors were always in high demand, after all.

“Heh, not to mention all those three letter agencies. Hope you’re not doing meth on the side, there Rogers.” Already there was a bit of a smile in Sam’s voice. 

Steve grinned. Perfect. 

“Ha, yeah right. They won’t bother. I mean, can you even imagine it? Someone that wanted showing up to something so public? It’d be crazy. Never in a million years.”

\--

In the days leading up to the event, Steve was proven right. Both Steve and Sam still got a few tentative offers from hopeful socialites, but most of the smarter ones had realized that Steve had tweeted out a big ol’ _Fuck Off_ sign, and got on with their lives. 

As predicted, the fans went nuts. Steve was flooded with tweets and letters. Fanart and photoshopped pictures started showing up everywhere of his most iconic characters making out with the Winter Soldier. Nearly every single one of the interviewers on the press tour asked him about it. 

All of his answers were roughly the same. 

“As far as I can see, the Soldier is bringing justice to people who have slipped through the cracks for too long. I don’t support illegal activities, and I implore you, if anyone out there sees something illegal going on, please report it. But from where I’m looking? I don’t think the Soldier is a bad guy. Maybe he’s done bad things, maybe he’s stepped over a line, but I think his heart is in the right place. It looks to me like he’s trying to do the right thing. And, you know, I’d also like to think that maybe he and Captain America would have a lot to talk about.”

All in all, Steve found the whole thing hilarious. 

He could tell Sam was fairly amused as well, though was doing his best to hide it. Probably because he didn’t want to encourage Steve any further. 

Just to keep the joke going, Steve posted updates on his preparations on twitter. 

_(Image by Talkplaylove)_

_@SteveGRogers  
“Heading out to pick out the suit, now! Dressing in black, Soldier, just in case you wanna match.”_

__

_@SteveGRogers  
“Soldier in the news again. World must be a better place now._

_@SteveGRogers  
“I’ll be at the red carpet before 7pm, Soldier. Hope to see you there!”_

 

Each message got thousands of retweets. The extra commentary was pretty funny too. Having the fans obsess about a completely and obviously fabricated relationship was a million times less stressful than having them speculate on his actual love life. 

Not that there was ever much of that. Steve was often too busy. His life was a never ending round robin of months training followed by months of shooting, and then capped off with world wide press tours. He’d get a few weeks break and then it would start all over again. 

So really, all the stuff floating around Twitter about him and the Soldier was some of the most fun he’d had off a set in years. Some of his co-stars even got into it too.

 

_(Image by Talkplaylove)_

_@TheRealTonyStark  
“Is the Soldier buying you a boutonniere? He’d better be. Good dates always bring flowers.”_

_@ThorOdinson  
“Which one of us has to give the Soldier the Shovel Talk?”_

_@BruceBanner  
“Not it.”_

_@TheRealTonyStark  
“Not it!!!!”_

_@ThorOdinson  
“...shit.”_

 

By the time the day arrived, Steve was more relaxed than he’d ever been before a premiere. The movie was great; he was confident it would do well enough at the box office. The cast were all hyped, his outfit was squared away, and best of all he didn’t have an annoying date to tend to for the night. 

He could wander his way up and down the carpet as much as he pleased, watch the film, maybe hit up the after party, and then just go home. 

When his car pulled up to the red carpet, his main bodyguard stopped him with a hand to his elbow before he got out.

“You sure about this, man?” Brock asked. Steve had met Brock on a set a couple years ago, and they’d hit it off. They maybe weren’t ‘hang out on Sundays with beer and pizza’ kind of friends, but they were friendly and had a healthy respect for each other. Brock was also good at his job, one of the best in fact, so when he had advice, Steve tried to listen to it.

He paused to consider the question, really think it over, and then asked, “Do you really think the Winter Soldier is gonna show up here?”

Brock scoffed. “Not a chance. But a long distance trigger on a bomb is just as effective as an up-close knife.”

Well that was a solid point. It wouldn’t fit with the Soldier’s MO though.

“Is there anything else I can do that we haven’t done already?” 

“Nah, man. We got everything set. The theater and Marvel both have security out the wazoo. I’m just making sure you know that there’s still some risk. I mean, I’m good. Rollins is good, too. We’re a solid detail. We’ve met with the folks working the line here. But, fuck, Steve. We are not Winter Soldier level good. That guy…” Brock shook his head and gave a half smile. “Dude is a force of nature. He comes for you here and ain’t nothing any of us can do to stop it.”

Steve smiled and squeezed Brock’s shoulder. “I know, and I appreciate you saying something. It means a lot.”

Brock laughed and shoved Steve’s arm off of him. “Yeah, yeah. Just doing my job. Go out there and look pretty for the cameras. I’ll be out with the rest of the grunts if you need me. Rollins is already here.”

“Check.” Steve straightened his tie, black on black shirt on black suit, and headed out. 

At this point in his career, Steve had been to a number of red carpet events. They all went sort of the same way. Lots of pictures when he got out of the car, fans screaming up along the barricades on the side, and interviewers stationed in various places up and down the carpet. At the end, there’s usually some kind of photo set background for posed pictures and group shots. Then it’s into the theater or event center for the main event. 

After the initial flood of camera flashes subsided, Steve went straight over to the side walls to sign autographs for fans. Honestly, this was one of his favorite parts. Making people happy, touching lives and bringing something special to the world...that was one of the best parts of acting. The enthusiasm and dedication of some of these folks was kind of awe inspiring. He always tried his best to live up to it. 

He made his way up and down both sides of the baraccaide, trying to give as many people as possible a chance at a picture or signature. Soon enough though, he found himself at the start of the row of interviewers. By this time it was pretty dark out and the whole stretch was lit up with hundreds of lights.

The carpet there was pretty wide open, the better for people to mill around and chat before the event. Rather than wander around, though, Steve stood smack in the middle of that space.

He checked his watch. 

6:50pm. 

_Might as well hang out, just in case_ , he thought with a smile. 

This was the best idea. 

“Cap!” Tony Stark wandered up and clapped him on the back. Steve’s smile turned into a grin.

“Tony! Good to see you.” He tossed an arm over Stark’s shoulder. “How’s Pepper?”

“Good, good. You waiting for your boy toy?”

Steve rolled his eyes, but played along. “You know it! He’s got ten more minutes!” 

“Don’t come crying to me when he stands you up, Rogers.” Tony winked at him. “Bad boys like that have a reputation.” They both laughed. 

He spied Thor headed up the way and waved him over.

“Steven! Stark! Good to see you both!” Thor crushed them in a massive hug. Flashes went off everywhere and Steve knew that picture was gonna be on the cover of some magazine somewhere. 

“You ready for that shovel talk?” Steve teased.

“I shall do my duty, friend.” Thor’s voice was grave and serious, but his eyes twinkled and his mouth twitched with a barely suppressed grin. 

Steve glanced at his watch. 

6:59pm. 

“Looks like lover boy is about to be late, huh?” Tony smirked. “Ah well, better...luck...next…” His voice trailed off as the crowd began to scream and point.

Everyone craned to get a good look. Up on the roof of one of the buildings adjacent to the theater, standing perfectly in the light of an upturned spotlight, was the Winter Soldier. The solid uniformity of his black tactical gear was broken only by the silver of his left arm, some kind of prosthetic that always was left bare. His black muzzle and goggles were in place as well and shoulder length brown hair shifted in the breeze. 

“Shit,” Steve and Tony both said at the same time. In the blink of an eye, the vast majority of the crowd surrounding the three of them had disappeared, fleeing to the edges of the carpet to avoid being collateral damage. 

“Maybe he just wants to wave hi?” Thor said hopefully. 

The Soldier took off running, heading across the rooftops straight towards the theater. In seconds he was sprinting faster that Steve would have been able to on open ground. With short leaps he easily cleared the space between the other buildings leading up to his destination. But he didn’t stop when he hit the theater. He kept running, this time angling himself down _the side of the building_ , running at a slight angle, kept upright by virtue of momentum alone.

Gasps ran through the crowd and Steve wasn’t ashamed to admit he was gasping too. This was insane.

Then the Soldier pushed off, jumping straight out into the air, right towards where Steve, Thor, and Tony were standing. The sheer distance between them and the theater wall should have been an impossible amount to overcome, but the Soldier crossed it with ease. His arms were spread wide, almost like he was flying. 

_Oh my god, he’s gonna fall and die_ , was all Steve could think.

The flight only lasted for a moment though, because then the Soldier was falling. He landed on the carpet about a dozen feet away from the group, tucked into a roll. After three full rolls he popped up to standing, finally coming to a stop not more than a couple steps away from Steve.

  
_(Image by Talkplaylove)_

Everyone around them went insane. The crowds were screaming like mad and the cameras were flashing so much it was like they were in a thunderstorm. He could barely hear Tony next to him saying, “Son of a bitch,” and Thor’s hand was painfully tight on his arm.

For a few minutes they all just stood there, frozen. 

From there Steve could see that the Soldier’s gear wasn’t quite what the pictures on the news showed. Rather than dripping with weapons, instead the Soldier wore a heavy duty black jacket. It cut off at his waist and fit him perfectly. The strange buttoning straps in front emphasized his broad shoulders in a way that made Steve’s throat run dry. 

Not that Steve had any illusions about the lack of visible weapons. Just because he couldn’t see guns on the Soldier’s hips or between his shoulder blades didn’t mean they weren’t there under the jacket. 

The left arm was still open to the air, showing off the metal plates and worn red star on his shoulder. The goggles actually had dark red lenses in them, rather than the black that Steve had assumed they were. On his right hand, he had a solid black glove. He wore loose, heavy black pants and black combat boots. The only skin visible was a little strip of pale forehead above his goggles. 

All in all, he looked good. Really good. Sleek and dangerous. It pressed a whole lot of buttons for Steve that he didn’t even know were there. 

_Yay, self discovery_ , he thought dryly.

Very, very slowly, the Soldier moved his right hand to a pouch off of his belt. Steve tensed, breath catching in his throat. 

This is how he would die. 

Fuck.

But what the Soldier pulled out of the pouch wasn’t a grenade like Steve feared. It was...flowers? A tiny little bouquet the size of the Soldier’s fist. 

Still moving slow as can be, the Soldier held out the flowers to Steve.

“Oh my god,” Tony whispered. “He brought you a boutonniere.” 

Steve blinked, jaw slack with astonishment. The Soldier stood frozen, flowers still outstretched. A sharp nudge from Tony got Steve moving. He shook himself and took an unsteady breath. The adrenaline pumping through him narrowed the world to just the four of them. Everyone else had to be going mad. 

He licked his lips and took a step forward, grabbing hold of the flowers. 

“Thank you,” he said. If his voice wobbled a bit, well, Steve figured he could be excused. 

He looked down. The flowers were _weird_. Like nothing he’d ever seen before. The largest one was about the size of a silver dollar, and deep purple with a pale center. Next to it was a spray of the tiniest little rose blooms he had ever seen; each one was no larger than his pinky nail, and all a soft white-pink color. Those were wrapped together and nestled on a background of what looked like juniper. The pale blue-green needles and dark blue berries blended in surprisingly nicely with the other flowers. Somehow both warm and cool at the same time. 

The Soldier stepped in close and proceeded to pin the bundle to Steve’s lapel. As he gently settled the flowers into place, he spoke. “Hellebores, for protection from winter, wild roses for protection from evil, and juniper as a ward from harm.” 

  
_(Image by Lorien)_

Steve couldn’t stop staring at those hands, one gloved and one metal, and how carefully they moved. 

With a final pat on the lapel, the Soldier dropped his hands.

“They’re lovely,” Steve said. “Thank you.” 

They stood awkwardly for a moment, and then the Soldier tilted his head to look at Tony and Thor. His gaze paused on Thor.

“Thor Odinson. Is it time for the shovel talk yet?” Despite being unable to see the Soldier’s face, there was a clear hint of laughter in his words. 

Steve and Tony both started to crack up. Thor shifted uncomfortably, face bright red. He stammered for a moment before starting to smile himself, joining in on the joke.

“So Soldier Boy, any chance I could get an up close and personal look at that arm?” Tony asked, with a leer. He made grabbie hands, but didn’t actually close the distance between them, something that Steve thought was a massive show of restraint for him.

It was surprising on two levels. One, because Tony Stark seldom showed self control in any type of situation, and two, because when Stark wasn’t acting, he was busy working on advanced physics and engineering projects. The guy was smart as a whip. All of his profits from his various acting roles had been invested. Now, more than a decade into his acting career, the name Stark was synonymous with innovation as well as blockbuster movies. 

“Stark,” the Soldier said. It was hard to tell, but Steve fancied that his voice was still warm with amusement. “I placed a bet with myself on how long it would take you to ask about my arm. Looks like I won.”

Tony furrowed his brow. “If you placed the bet with yourself, wouldn’t you win anyways?”

The Soldier just shrugged his right shoulder. “Sometimes you gotta take your wins where you can.”

“...That wasn’t a no.” Tony smiled entreatingly. 

The Soldier shook his head once, and said, “Maybe later.” With that, he turned slightly and offered Steve his right arm. “May I escort you in?”

Instantly, Steve’s face was on fire. This was the first time he’d ever been on the receiving end of that particular gesture. It was a significantly more pleasant experience than he’d been led to believe, though some of that might have been due to the person offering. 

“Oh. Uh. Yeah. I mean, yes, please.” He winced internally. _Smooth, Rogers._

Gingerly, he placed his hand in the crook of the Soldier’s arm. There was a brief feather light touch as the Soldier patted his hand, the cold metal plates tingling on his skin for just a moment. Then they were strolling down the red carpet.

Right towards several lines of reporters. 

_Oh my god._

“Don’t worry,” the Soldier murmured to him. “Just pick one, your favorite, and we’ll skip the rest.”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “This is kind of the premiere for a movie I’m starring in. If I only pick one, Sam, my agent, will spend the next six months kicking my ass.”

There was a little flash of light as the Soldier tilted his head to look at Steve, a reflection of camera flashes off the Soldier’s goggles. “Should I protect you from him?” The tone was only half teasing, and holy shit wasn’t that a thought.

If Steve was having self discovery issues before, that was nothing to what he was going through now. A strange trickle of excitement flitted through him and he tried very hard not to think about what a protective Winter Soldier might look like.

_Head in the game, Rogers_.

The internal pep talk wasn’t really helping, but he figured maybe repetition might be a factor. 

“I think I’ll be fine,” he finally said, a smirk lingering on his lips. 

A flash of movement off to the side of the carpet caught his eye. Brock was there, with Rollins next to him. When their eyes met, Brock looked pointedly at the Soldier. Then back at Steve. He raises his eyebrows questioningly and pointed back and forth between himself and the Soldier. 

Mindful of their earlier conversation, Steve shook his head. Despite all expectation, things seemed to be going fairly smoothly. The last thing any of them needed was a fight breaking out. Especially one that both Steve and Brock knew the Soldier would win.

Brock just gave him a rueful smirk and shook his head. Steve and the Soldier walked on.

As they approached the first interviewer, Steve noticed that there was a kind of bubble around them. Like everyone had unanimously and silently decided not to get within fifteen feet of the Soldier. 

On one hand, Steve could sympathize. On the other, holy shit that arm under his hand was firm.

He conceded that he might be a bit distracted, and therefore biased. 

“This is Judy Webber from E Entertainment News. Steve Rogers and the Winter Soldier here, oh my god!” 

The woman in front of them was decked out in more layers of makeup and sequins than Steve cared to count. But this was normal. This was his job, and he was good at it. He plastered his most charming smile onto his face and beamed.

“Hi, Judy! How are you doing?”

“Are you kidding? I’m fabulous, oh my god. I can’t believe that the Winter Soldier is here. He’s...he’s not going to--- I mean,” she turned to look at the Soldier. “You’re not here to do any _work_ are you, Mr. Soldier?”

“Just here to see a movie,” the Soldier replied evenly. 

“What made you show up? No one expected you to actually take up the invite. Unless the two of you planned this ahead of time?”

Steve laughed. “No, I’m afraid I’m just as surprised as you are.”

“How could I resist an invitation from someone so talented and accomplished? It would have been a crime to say no.” The Soldier rested his left hand on Steve’s hand once again. 

A laugh erupted unbidden from Steve. Of all the things he’d expected from the Soldier, a little bit of charming sass never even made the list. He was expecting someone dour. Brooding, maybe. But so far, Steve couldn’t shake the feeling that the Soldier was probably grinning under his mask.

“And we all know how you feel about crime,” Steve snarked back. 

The Soldier just shrugged. 

“Amazing. Just amazing.” Judy shook her head and looked into the camera. “Hollywood, look out! There’s a new power couple in town. Before you go, Steve, Mr. Soldier, just one more question.”

“Shoot, Judy.”

It might have been Steve’s imagination, but he thought the Soldier may have huffed out a laugh at Steve’s choice of words.

“Any chance of us getting a look under that mask?” She grinned. Steve was reminded of a shark. 

“I could show you---” the Soldier started. 

“No, don’t say it,” Steve groaned. 

“---But then I’d have to kill you.” The Soldier’s voice dropped to a dangerous purr.

All of the color drained out of Judy’s face, but Steve could feel the slight tremble in the Soldier’s shoulders. He was _laughing_. Just knowing that the Soldier was willing to joke like that tickled Steve to no end. He couldn’t stop the cackle that came out of him.

“That was so bad. So bad. You’re terrible.” Steve grinned and slapped the Soldier’s arm in mirth.

“It was too good to pass up,” the Soldier said, laughing quietly.

“Ha. Ha ha. What a kidder.” Judy didn’t sound nearly as amused as Steve was, though she put on a good attempt at a smile. “Steve Rogers and the Winter Soldier, thank you both so much for talking with us.” 

After that, both she and her camera person beat a hasty retreat. 

Steve shook his head. “That was mean.”

“She should have known better than to ask.”

That was probably fair. After all, someone didn’t wear a mask everywhere they went only just to take it off the first time someone asked. And on live, nation wide TV no less. World wide, if streaming was counted in.

“Another one?” the Soldier asked.

Something about the way he asked made Steve pause. He turned to look at the Soldier, eyes narrowed with suspicion.

“You’re gonna scare the shit out of everyone we talk to tonight, aren’t you.” 

“It’s possible.”

“Possible like, oh no I’ve got a bad rep but really I’m a big softy, kind of possible? Or possible like, I’m going to toss out thinly veiled threats to everyone I meet because it amuses me, kind of possible.”

There was a long pause. Too long.

“...Can I do both? I like the idea of both.”

Something seemed to snap inside of Steve and he started cackling. “You’re a little shit. A fucking troll, that’s what you are. Oh my god, that’s amazing. The Winter Soldier is an enormous troll.” 

Maybe it was the left over adrenaline from the Soldier’s entrance, or maybe it was the sheer ridiculousness of the whole night, but the laughter kept coming. Soon Steve was leaning up against the Soldier, huffing for breath in between giggles. 

When he finally stopped long enough to catch his breath, he found himself just inches away from the Soldier’s face. Time froze for a second as they looked at each other.

“...So you’re good with the threatening, is what I’m getting out of this.” The Soldier definitely sounded like he was smiling.

Steve lightly punched him on the shoulder with his free hand. “Behave.”

“Sir, yes, sir, Captain America, sir.” His tone was dry as a desert.

And wasn’t that a thought.

Steve put it out of his mind. Now was not the time, not even a little. While he was looking for his next interviewer, seeing who was free, something else occurred to him.

“So. You’re wanted by the feds. Why are they not swarming the red carpet right now, trying to arrest you?”

The Soldier just looked at him and then briefly tipped his head to the side. “I distracted them.”

Right. Of course. Because that wasn’t ominous at all.

\--

“So, why aren’t we swarming the red carpet?” Skye asked. She, and the rest of Phil Coulson’s team, were seated around a meeting table in their remote offices in L.A. Being high up in Shield had its perks, and one of those was space available on short notice in every major US city. “Because the Winter Soldier is right there. On TV. It’s like he’s mocking us.”

“Mocking seems a bit harsh, don’t you think?” Coulson snarked back blandly. He adjusted straightened the papers in front of him and smirked. 

“Well. He’s not quite on TV,” Agent Fitz said. “He’s done something to the broadcast. It’s set on a delay. I mean, we’re watching it live, but only because I’ve tapped into their feeds.”

“Skye has a good point. Why are we sitting here when we could be out arresting an international terrorist?” Melinda May’s voice was stern and perhaps a bit chiding. May was one of his oldest friends and most loyal agents. When she spoke, he listened. She did him the great favor of doing the same for him. 

“I think terrorist is debatable, May. As far as we can tell, all the Soldier has done has done our work for us. Pointed out people and organizations we’d only heard hints of.” It was true, too. Even if the Soldier ended up killing the people in charge, there were still dozens of arrests in the lower tiers of each of those organizations. Shield had been very, very busy.

“Phil.”

He spread out the papers he’d received earlier that day, and started handing them around. 

“Because we have something better to do.” Coulson smiled widely. “Earlier today the Soldier contacted me and handed over this. We’ve got a target of opportunity, and that window is quickly dwindling.”

“Sinthea Schmidt? Johann Schmidt’s daughter?” Agent Triplett flipped through some of the papers. “Seriously? That’s a real person?”

“She is. After Johann’s death, Sinthea took over the family business. This file has information linking her to a massive international arms organization.” Coulson brought up the relevant data on the projector behind him.

“Hydra.” May pursed her lips, disgusted at even saying the word.

“This says she’s here in L.A., though she won’t be after tonight,” Agent Simmons said pointedly.

“Seems she’s being pressured by someone,” Coulson explained. “We already knew that there have been small isolated attacks on various weapons dealers, but this file connects them to Hydra. Sinthea’s got to know that the Soldier is after her. She won’t take any chances on sticking around.”

“And the Soldier gave this to you? Just out of the kindness of his heart?” Triplett raised an eyebrow in disbelief. 

Coulson gave a small laugh. “Seems that the Soldier already had a date for the evening, but he wanted to make sure Sinthea was taken care of.”

“What’s Director Fury say about this?” May asked.

“The Director has given me full discretion to handle this as I see fit. At the moment, I think the Soldier should be considered a potential asset. And besides, Sinthea Schmidt is a bigger clear and present threat.”

The truth was that Coulson had to fight with Fury on it. The Soldier was bad press for everyone. Shield especially, since they operated best in clandestine operations. Fury wanted him locked down and pumped for information rather than running around executing his grudge list. 

Coulson was under the opinion that apprehending the Soldier was more trouble than it was worth. Besides that, it did seem that the Soldier was doing his best to make clean up easy for Shield. The only people who died were the ones directly responsible for some truly horrific things. 

The smarter approach would be to build a rapport with the Soldier, and bring him in under more pleasant circumstances. That meant building a working relationship. Everyone wins, bad guys still get caught. 

It pleased Coulson even more to see that the Soldier was taking an interest in something other than murdering people. Fury would say that it’s a liability, one they can exploit. But Coulson believed that it was a sign of recovery, and therefore should be protected. 

Some of the files that were left at previous crime scenes seemed to indicate that the Soldier himself was created by the people he was pursuing. Coulson kept all of this under wraps; no good could come out of releasing that information. But because of it, he was inclined to believe that the Soldier had a deeply personal vested interest in stopping these atrocities from happening. So far he’d pursued that path with admirable restraint. Since that was the case, the idea of letting the Soldier even his own ledger was appealing.

But this trip to the premier was promising. The thing that these organizations created when they made the Winter Soldier was a weapon, through and through. Weapons can’t be reasoned with. They have no morals. There is only the job, the target. 

People, though. People go on dates to go see movies. People have hopes and dreams and maybe someone to come home to at night. After everything the Soldier had been through, Coulson wanted to see him get some of that. 

A person can become a team member, can work towards a better future for everyone. A person can make moral judgement calls. A weapon can only be controlled. 

For all of their sakes, Coulson was glad to see that the Winter Soldier was starting to lean towards being a person rather than just a weapon.

He folded his hands in front of him and smiled again at his team. “Suit up folks. Time to go catch a international arms dealer.”

“And the premiere?” May asked.

“If we have time after, we might swing by.”

Shrugs answered him all around the table. Everyone gathered up their materials and headed out. 

Tonight was really shaping up.

\--

Turned out that the rest of the interviews were _hilarious_. The Soldier was good to his word, and every time someone edged towards something he didn’t want to talk about, vaguely threatening innuendo started. 

Steve hadn’t had so much fun at a premiere in ages. 

The vast majority of the interviewers were clearly unprepared for the Soldier to be there, to the point where many of them completely forgot to ask Steve any questions at all. Everyone had come with a list of things they wanted to ask and most of them hadn’t even bothered to make up any for the Soldier. So what they ended up with was whatever they could think up on the fly.

He couldn’t decide what was more funny; what the interviewers ended up asking, or how the Soldier responded. 

When they walked up to the interviewer from Variety, the man with the mic looked like a shark that had just found bloody water. Steve couldn’t be certain, but as far as he could tell the Soldier was unimpressed. Something about how he held his head implied a raised eyebrow in Steve’s mind.

“Soldier! Is that your real arm?” 

While the question was a surprise, Steve inwardly winced a bit. He’d realized pretty quickly that the metal appendage was some kind of prosthesis. Steve could almost hear his ma’s waspish commentary on how disrespectful it was to ask people about a missing limb. 

“No. It’s my imaginary arm.” There was a long pause as both Steve and the interview processed this. The Soldier couldn’t be serious. But...the delivery was so deadpan, it was sort of hard to tell. 

“...Oh. That’s...really interesting?” The interviewer couldn’t seem to figure out how to close his jaw. His brows were doing something complicated that implied he wasn’t sure if he was being trolled or if he was talking to a crazy person. 

Before he could figure it out the Soldier gently tugged them away to the next station. 

As soon as they were out of earshot, Steve cast the Soldier and incredulous look. “Really?”

“Ask a dumb question…” The Soldier shrugged with one shoulder. 

Steve snickered. 

The next interview was a representative from Screen Rant. She was at least marginally more polite.

“Soldier! Are you a Captain America fan? Is that why you showed up tonight?” Her smile was reminiscent of toothpaste commercials. 

Kind of a softball question, but given his date, Steve was thrilled with every possible soft ball he could get lobbed at him. 

“With Steve as the star, how could I not be?”

“Do you have any Captain America merchandise?”

“Twitter informed me that the best item to get was a full body pillow with Captain America’s image printed on it.” Steve choked on his spit and started coughing. Now there was a wonderful mental image. “But I sleep with so many knives, I’d hate to make it a pin cushion, even by accident.”

  
_(Image by Lorien)_

“Wow.” Her smiled stayed just as wide, but lost a good portion of its pleasantness. The whites showed all around her eyes and her jaw dropped a bit. She looked about two seconds away from a scream. “The Winter Soldier, folks. Steve Rogers, tell me about your uniform on set!”

As she floundered her way through asking Steve a few questions, he could feel that little shiver of laughter in the Soldier’s arm. Steve couldn’t help but grin along with him, to the point where he was nearly cackling as they moved on to the next group.

One of the more interesting interviews came from Vogue. Historically, Steve didn’t interact a lot with the fashion news folks. They generally asked a quick few questions about his suit, maybe set up a photo shoot in the off season, and then everyone was on their way. It didn’t help that Steve tended to dress conservatively to these kinds of events, so that didn’t leave a lot for them to chat about. 

Clearly this hadn’t eluded the interviewer, a smartly dressed pale woman with a jet black hair style that was so complicated Steve didn’t think he’d have been able to untangle it with a map and a pair of scissors. She completely ignored Steve and immediately latched her attention on the Soldier. 

“Soldier, thank you so much for speaking with us tonight.” 

So far she was the first one to offer that little nicety. Steve gave her a warm smile. A little flickering of her eyes and the slight uptick at the corners of her mouth told him that she’d seen it. 

“It is my pleasure to be here,” the Soldier said.  
“Such a charmer! Mr. Rogers had better watch out.” They all laughed politely for a moment. “Now, Soldier, your hair looks positively touchably soft. Would you be willing to say what product you use on it?”

Steve barely resisted rolling his eyes. As it was, he still ended up blinking really hard for a moment. Of _course_ when confronted with the Winter Soldier, the first thing someone needed to ask him was about his hair care regimen.

The Soldier sat frozen for a moment, so still that Steve wondered if maybe he’d taken offence. But then he tilted his head a bit, and gave his chin a toss, flipping his long hair back out of his eyes. Goggles. ...Line of sight?

“I like to experiment. Tonight I tried out Paul Mitchell’s Tea Tree products. I like the smell, and it does leave my hair particularly soft.” 

Steve blinked again. That….was not what he was expecting. But the interviewer took it in stride. 

“Do you find that you ever need extra conditioning? Do you ever use any finishing products?”

“Occasionally I use a detangler, but it depends on the day and how much, ha, work I’ve been doing. I’ve tried using an extra deep conditioner for the ends, but it didn’t seem to do me a whole lot of favors, so I usually skip it.”

“That makes sense. The ends don’t look damaged at all. You take wonderful care of it.” She eyed his long locks appreciatively.

“Thank you.” There was a warmth to the Soldier’s voice that spoke of sincerity. 

This was maybe the strangest conversation Steve had ever been witness to, and given his night that was really saying something. 

“You’re very welcome. And if you’re ever interested in a Vogue photoshoot, I know we’d _love_ to have you out. Pick your designer, we’ll get them on board.”

The Soldier laughed, a warm rolling chuckle that sent shivers up Steve’s spine. Oh that was such a bad sign. The _things_ that laugh made Steve want to do...

“I donno. Sounds dangerous. I might need Steve to join us. Keep the scary photographers at bay.” The Soldier tilted his head a bit, casting a sly glance towards Steve. 

“Wait, what now?” Steve scrambled to bring his mind back to the conversation at hand. 

“Yes! Oh yes, yes, yes! Mr. Rogers, a couples shoot would be amazing!” The interviewer’s eyes lit on Steve like he was the bringer of World Peace. 

Not that Steve was totally opposed, but the logistics of such an event sort of made his eyes want to cross. Still… 

He grinned at the Soldier and winked. “That might be something we can work out. Assuming there’s a second date, of course.” 

There was that laugh again, and, oh, did it make Steve’s cheeks go hot. 

“We’ll see,” the Soldier said, amusement evident in his voice. 

As they walked away, Steve couldn’t stop himself from nudging the Soldier a little in the side. “I’m pretty sure you take better care of your hair than I do.” It was said jokingly, but only half. 

He wasn’t expecting the slightly embarrassed pause that followed. The answer that came after it was so quiet that Steve nearly missed it. 

“I’ve spent so long as a weapon, sometimes it’s nice to remind myself that I’m human, too.”

Before Steve could come up with a reaction to that, the Soldier was steering them towards another interviewer and they were wrapped up in more questions.

\--

“Oh my god are you listening to this?” Skye asked over the comms. 

“No, Skye,” Coulson said as he dodged behind a corner, narrowly avoiding incoming fire. “I’m afraid I’m otherwise occupied.”

“The Winter Soldier uses Paul Mitchell. Holy shit, I know how the Winter Soldier smells, this is so amazing. They are gonna sell out of stock so fast, oh my god.”

Coulson waited for the hail of bullets to taper off. He reloaded his gun and took a couple of deep breaths. 

“Skye, I’m not sure now is the time,” May said over the comms. The sound of a distant explosion echoed through the mic. 

“Paul Mitchell? Really?” Tripp said dryly, voice coming in staticy in between panting breaths. “I woulda thought a scary dude like that would have at least gone for L’Oreal Paris. He seems like a Paris kinda guy.”

“Maybe he was born with it.” Coulson added. Keeping as much of his body behind cover as possible, he returned fire.

“Maybe it’s Maybelline,” Skye said with a laugh. “Oh shit, heads up, we’ve got activity on the back of the building. Looks like Sinthea called up some friends.”

“On it,” Tripp said.

Coulson downed his opponent with a shot to the shoulder, then one to the head. He reloaded. “Meet you there in a minute.”

\--

Most of the rest of the interview questions blurred together. Not surprising, as Steve always got a handful of the same ones over and over again. 

How was the filming? What was his favorite part? How did he think this would fit in with the rest of the series? Could he tell them about his workout regimen? What was it like working with Tony Stark and Thor Odinson? Could he offer any spoilers for the next installment of the franchise? 

Sprinkled in with those questions were the regular round of silly ones.

Were there any pranks done on set? Did the actors give each other any nicknames? If he could pick any superpower, what would it be? Was he a boxers or briefs kind of guy?

Through all of the this, the Soldier remained stoic. It was hard to tell with the mask and goggles, but Steve got the feeling that the Soldier was keeping an eye out around them. Probably for the police, if Steve was being honest with himself. 

Even though the vast majority of the interviews went well, there was always at least one person who wanted to stir some shit. Tonight it was a guy from the LA Times. 

“Mr. Rogers, thank you so much for talking to us. Can you tell our viewers why you support terrorism?”

Steve resisted the urge to punch the guy in the face, but only just. Instead he smiled through grit teeth. “I don’t.”

The Soldier’s arm went rigid under his hand, and there was a faint clicking sound. It took a moment, but Steve realized it was the plates on the metal arm shifting. 

“Then why are you here with someone who is currently wanted for several counts of domestic terrorism?” The interviewer smiled wide. 

Steve plastered up a vicious smile of his own. “The real question is, why is it that the so-called victims of the Soldier’s actions are all some of the worst scum of the earth, and how have these people managed to walk free for so long?”

“That’s not really the issu---”

“No, I think it is,” Steve interrupted. “These are people who are responsible for widespread acts of depravity. Human trafficking. That’s slavery for those of you out there who aren’t making the connection. Both for labor and sex. Mass production of illegal drugs. The hard stuff too. Custom made mixes of some of the most dangerous and addictive narcotics that this country has ever seen. The laundry list of crimes goes on forever. Murder. Extortion. Kidnapping. Assault. The question people should be asking themselves is why did it take the actions of the Soldier to expose these criminals? How have they managed to operate in secret for so long?”

“So you’re saying you support your boyfriend’s criminal activities?” 

He took a breath and focused his mind. Now was not the time to pick a fight, now was the time to be calm. “As I’ve said over my twitter account, I don’t support any illegal activities. I am, however, thrilled as hell that these depraved bastards are being put out of business. Also,” he raised his hand to stave off whatever the interviewer had already opened his mouth to say. “Also. The Soldier and I haven’t talked relationship status yet. We’ll keep you all updated on twitter. Thank you for coming to the premiere tonight.”

With that, he walked off, towing the Soldier with him. 

Before the Soldier could say anything, Tony joined them. “I caught the end of that. Wow, what a dick. I’m make sure the rest of the cast knows to avoid that guy like the plague.” 

Steve took a few deep breaths and willed himself to be calm. That was hardly the first hostile interview he’d ever had, but it didn’t make it any more pleasant. “Thanks Tony. I don’t think he’ll give the rest of you much flack, but it would be good to warn people just in case.”

“Kudos to you, Terminator, for not going nuts on that guy. I know Steve probably wanted to.” Tony’s eyes flickered back and forth between them.

“Steve had it handled,” the Soldier replied calmly. “I’m sort of surprised there weren’t more questions like that, actually.”

“Pfft.” Tony waved a hand dismissively. “This is LA, kid. People are more interested who you’re fucking. Which...by the way…” He raised an eyebrow and smirked. 

Steve bit back a groan. “Tony. No.”

“I’m just saying! Look at those thighs! I bet he’s a tiger in the sack.” Tony leered at them both and fire bloomed across Steve’s cheeks. He briefly considered retiring to the middle of Montana. “This is important information. The world needs to know. For science.”

“Tony! That is not okay! Soldier, I am so sorry---” Steve started to say, but then he got a good look at the Soldier. Saw how his shoulders were shaking and his head tilted back. That asshole was _laughing_ at him.

“I’m not sure which was more concerning, the threat of a shovel talk or the threat of scientific inquiry,” the Soldier said with a chuckle.

“Hmmm. Given that Thor pussied out on the actual threatening, I’d say ‘science’. Don’t worry, though, we always ask permission first. Volunteers only. I’ll give you some nice swag too. Maybe a little cooler with the Stark Industries logo on it. China set, maybe. Take you out to dinner. Better yet, take both you out to dinner and observe. You wouldn’t happen to be interested in a three-way, would you?” Tony smiled winningly. 

There was more clicking as the Soldier’s arm shifted, but this time he was covering his face up with his metal hand and just shaking with laughter. Still, only the barest hint of a breathy chuckle came out from under the mask, but the sound of it still warmed Steve to his toes. 

“Holy cats, this was the best idea ever,” the Soldier said finally. 

“Holy cats?” both Steve and Tony said at the same time, eyebrows raised. Then they both dissolved into snickers as well. 

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, punk” the Soldier said good naturedly and nudged Steve’s shoulder. 

“Jerk,” Steve replied. Tony made a gagging sound and rolled his eyes.

After one last shake of his head, the Soldier took a breath and settled himself down again, every inch the calm warrior once more. “Are we done with the interviews now?”

“Yeah, I think we’re done.” Steve looked around. Most of the cast had already started gathering at the photo wall. That must have been why Tony had wandered over, to grab Steve for some group shots. “Time to be photogenic.”

Steve nodded reluctantly. Normally, he would be fairly excited to move on to this part of the event, but leaving the Soldier alone sounded like the worst of bad ideas. 

It had nothing to do with the fact that Steve didn’t really want to leave the Soldier’s side. 

Nothing at all. 

“Go,” the Soldier nudged his shoulder. “I’ll wait.”

With another nod, Steve let Tony drag him over to the cast line up. They all shook hands and exchanged hugs and congratulations. The Captain America movies were one of the few franchises that Steve had worked on where everyone involved was pretty likeable. After doing several movies together, it felt more like they were friends and family than co-workers. 

In the middle of all the group shots and paired shots, Steve kept sneaking glances at the Soldier. He was standing off on his own...with Sam next to him?

Curious. 

Before Steve could do more than get a glance, it was time to smile some more at the camera. When he looked back again, both Sam and the Soldier were gone. 

A brief spike of panic shot through him and he scanned the crowd. Sam was easily located, thankfully, waving at Steve from the sidelines. As far as Steve could tell, Sam seemed fine. Nothing but easy smiles and a happy wave. 

Not that Steve thought the Soldier would _do_ anything. It was just nice to be reassured of that. 

Minutes ticked by as more and more photos were taken. As the male lead, Steve was asked to pose with pretty much everyone at some point. Once most of those were done, one of the photographers called out, “Steve! Could we get a picture of you and the Soldier?”

Steve grinned. “Ha! Sure, if I can fin-AHH!” He flailed a little as he realized that the Soldier was right behind him. Steve had absolutely no idea how he’d gotten there, or when he showed up, he was just _there_. “Jesus! Warn a guy next time.” 

Steve looked up. Nothing but the metal framework that held up the light scaffolding. Had the Soldier been standing up there, just hanging out, only to drop down? If so, how did he even get up there in the first place? 

Considering his dramatic entrance, maybe he just jumped straight up. 

Holy shit, that was unfairly hot.

The Soldier tilted his head to look at him, and Steve had the distinct impression he was being silently laughed at. 

Steve shook off his surprise, and smiled winningly. “So. Photos?” 

“If you like,” the Soldier said, and courteously offered his right arm again.

  
_(Image by Talkplaylove)_

The next fifteen minutes were a blur of flashes. It probably would have lasted longer, but apparently the Soldier’s patience had a limit. After a gentle tug on Steve’s arm, he ended up steering them away from the photo backdrop and into the theater. 

“Well that was the stressful part,” Steve said to him quietly as they made their way through the lobby. Now that the Soldier was back by his side, most of the other premiere guests were back to avoiding them both. “Now all we have to do is go watch a movie.”

A sudden spike of nervousness shot through him. Would the Soldier like the film? Steve shook his head, and reminded himself that he was very proud of this film. It was irrelevant whether or not the Soldier liked it. All that really mattered was if the public liked it.

Although it would be kind of nice if the Soldier liked it too. 

“Do you want popcorn?” Steve asked.

The Soldier tilted his head to look at him, and Steve suddenly remembered that the Soldier was wearing a mask. A mask he probably didn’t want to take off for identification reasons.

“I’m fine, but thank you for asking.” There was a hint of humor in the Soldier’s voice, which made Steve a little less like an idiot. “You can get some if you want, though.”

The idea of actually trying to eat while watching his latest, greatest endeavor finally show itself to the world made his stomach turn. He shook his head. 

Somewhere along the way to their seats, Tony and Thor rejoined them. 

With Thor was his wife, Jane Foster. Jane was as tiny as Thor was large, and smarter than any five people. All of that intellect was focused on science, and she was always the first to admit that she wasn’t a master of social interaction. Thor generally made up for it by being one of the most affable people Steve knew.

Tony’s plus one was Pepper Potts, CEO of Stark Industries and Tony’s alleged off-again, on-again sweetheart. Steve never bothered to keep track of if they were actually together at any given point in time. It didn’t really matter in the long run. Regardless of their relationship status, Tony and Pepper were close friends. 

Both women looked at the Soldier with a mix of mild alarm and curiosity. 

“Soldier, this is Ms. Pepper Potts and Dr. Jane Foster,” Steve said, waving a hand towards them.

Rather than holding out his hand to shake, the Soldier took a step back and _actually fucking bowed._ “It is my honor,” he said. 

“Oh my god, is he even real?” Jane whispered, face bright pink. 

“Pretty sure he exists to make lesser men look bad,” Tony said with a dry smirk. Steve snorted.

Pepper took things a little better, and simply gave him a sweet smile. “Soldier, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve got to say, as a CEO, it’s both a relief and a mild concern to see you here.”

Given all the headlines of dead businessmen, that was probably an understatement. 

The Soldier just tilted his head. “Concern I expect, but a relief?”

The smile that stretched across Pepper’s face held nothing by wry humor. “SI was considering a joint project with Kronas. Up until recently, that is. Recent events made it apparent that they wouldn’t be able to uphold SI’s standard of ethics.”

“That’s one way of putting it.” The Soldier’s voice had dropped to a growl, and it sent a shiver up Steve’s spine. For multiple reasons. 

Whelp, time to put a stop to this line of inquiry, before Steve’s ridiculous imagination could take his brain somewhere embarrassing. 

“We should probably get seated,” Steve said with a smile. Nods all around, and the Soldier offered his arm again.

“No hanky panky in the theater, kids.” Tony looked at them with mock sternness. 

Great. Because that mental image was _exactly_ what Steve needed to have in his head as the lights went down. The Soldier next to him in that huge, dark room. People all around, but no one really looking. _Be real, Rogers. People are going to be looking, if only to make sure that the Soldier isn’t going to do anything crazy._ He shoved the thoughts aside. 

“Like you’re one to talk, Stark,” Thor said with a grin. Thor and Steve both snickered at this, while Tony just waggled his eyebrows. Stark’s sometimes rather flamboyant exploits were well documented in the media.

Fortunately for Steve’s sanity, and probably everyone else's too, they were all seated together. He couldn’t be sure, but Steve suspected that if anyone else had been placed next to them, several people would find a convenient excuse to skip the screening and just head to the afterparty.

A quick look around them proved that a few people probably did that anyways. Several of the seats in front of and behind them were conspicuously empty. If this bothered the Soldier, he didn’t say anything about it. 

Steve had a brief internal freak out about where to put his arms. Their seats shared an arm rest. Should he put his arm there, and wait to see if the Soldier would want to hold hands? 

_That’s stupid. There is no way holding hands is going to happen. Why am I even thinking about that?_ Steve mentally kicked himself. _Just think about the movie._

To Steve’s surprise, the Soldier left his arm on the armrest, causing another brief internal flail as Steve tried to figure out if that was an invitation or not. In the end, he opted to ignore it. Better safe than sorry. Overstepping with the Soldier might lead to knives in delicate places. 

That mental image didn’t help him out either. _Brain, why? That wasn’t a thing before right now._

Steve took a slow breath and started to mentally recite Hamlet. _Soft you now, The fair Ophelia! ---Nymph, in thy orisons, be all my sins remembered…_

“When was the last time you went to see a movie?” Tony asked, seated on the other side of the Soldier. Steve noticed that the Soldier didn’t put his arm up on that armrest. Although, that could be because it was his metal arm and Tony was right there. Tony might take that as an invitation for something else entirely. 

“I don’t remember,” the Soldier said quietly. “I think it was Wizard of Oz.”

“Oooo classics.” There was a mix of amusement and mockery in Tony’s voice. So, situation normal.

“Judy Garland, or the new one?” Steve asked, suddenly curious.

“Garland. What a voice.” Naked admiration infused the words, and Steve found himself confused again. 

The Soldier was nothing like he expected, and yet somehow everything he’d hoped for. Dangerous and dramatic, sure. But funny? Just the idea of the Soldier sitting on the couch in whatever place he called home, watching the old Wizard of Oz was enough to make Steve grin. 

“Do you sing along with the movie?” Now Steve had to know. 

“No. I have a terrible singing voice.” Steve pouted. “I dance along.”

A sharp laugh erupted out of both Steve and Tony. Before they could ask more questions, the lights started to dim.

Steve settled into his chair a bit as both excitement and satisfaction filled him up. His movie was about to start! The project he’d poured the blood, sweat, and tears of more than a year into. 

God, he hoped it would be good. 

A few previews rolled and then the opening sequence started. Steve found himself getting sucked into the film, falling in love with the story all over again. It was different seeing it from an audience chair, rather than from behind a camera or from across a set. Each scene carried with it all the emotions and side stories of a hundred days of hard labor filming with his friends. 

It was an action film, but there was a strong sense of heart that Steve saw the glimmer of when he first read the script. To his great pleasure, it showed through on film. 

He was so engrossed in watching the movie, that for a while he completely forgot where he was and who he was sitting next to. 

Right up until about the middle of the movie, when a soft noise from beside him brought him back to himself. 

Steve glanced surreptitiously to the side. The Soldier looked impassive, face turned towards the screen. But his hand on the arm rest was clenched tight. It almost looked like it was shaking. 

Up on the screen was a flashback to World War Two, a heavy combat scene from Captain America’s past. 

Something clicked in Steve’s mind. Heavy combat. The Soldier was reacting badly to the scenes of fighting. 

He bit his lip, and debated his options. 

Given his role as Captain America, Steve had done a fair bit of outreach with veterans. As part of that he’d spent time reading up on and interacting with folks suffering through combat related PTSD. Steve wasn’t an expert, not by a long shot, but he knew enough to wonder if the Soldier suffered himself. 

If the Soldier was having a flashback, probably the last thing Steve should do would be to touch him. But if it was just a bad moment, a little comforting touch might be appreciated. He weighed the pros and cons, then squared his jaw. 

_I hope this works. Helps._

Very slowly, and very carefully, he eased his arm up next to the Soldier’s, just barely brushing their sleeves together. When he wasn’t immediately flung across the room, he breathed a silent sigh of relief, and kept going. He wrapped his hand around the Soldier’s trembling fist and gently squeezed. 

If the Soldier made a sound, Steve couldn’t hear it over the noise of the film. But touching like they were, he could feel the full body shiver that broke across the Soldier’s body. That was the only reaction he got. The two of them sat still as statues as the combat scene went on.

It took another scene and a half for the Soldier’s hand to stop shaking, and two more after that for the tension to go out of his hand. A great swell of pleasure and pride filled Steve’s chest, and he held back a smile. Whatever that scene had brought up, Steve had helped. How often had that happened for the Soldier? How much physical comfort could a man like this actually expect, or recieve? Not much, Steve guessed. 

The moment he tried to move his hand away, though, the Soldier turned his palm up and laced their fingers together. This time it was Steve’s turn to give a full body shiver. 

Which was ridiculous. There was no reason he should be this affected by just holding hands. But he was, and it was ridiculously sexy. Someone so dangerous, so sleek, beautiful, and deadly, still wanting the simple affection of holding hands. Steve wanted to wrap him up in a blanket. And then blow him. 

_Not the time, not the time, not the time,_ Steve thought to himself, eyes cast upwards as he prayed for strength. He could have himself a wonderful jerk off session after the party, but for right now he really needed to at least pretend to be presentable. 

By the time he’d gotten his brain and body under control, they movie was wrapping up. The end cinematics played and the crowd roared its approval. Steve didn’t even bother to stop himself from standing up and cheering. It was a good film, a _great_ film, and he was so damn proud he could burst. 

The Soldier stood up next to him and joined in the clapping, as did the folks around them. Soon, everyone was giving a standing ovation. 

People kept cheering and clapping until the first end credit scene popped up. It was a tease for a potential sequel. Negotiations were already in the works for it. Honestly, Steve didn’t expect to get more than a couple months off before they were back in pre-production for it.

_The joy of big movie houses_ , he thought with a rueful shake of his head. As much as he loved the franchise, it did have its ups and downs. He’d be hard pressed to squeeze in another short term project in before pre-production meetings started. Didn’t mean he wouldn’t do it. Steve knew damn well he had to branch out if he wanted to survive after Captain America had been laid to rest. 

But that was thinking for another time. Right now all he had to worry about was promoting Man Out of Time. 

After the last end credit scene, an easter egg for the long term fans, everyone slowly began filing out. 

“Goddamn, Steve. We did good,” Tony said as they wandered out. Steve allowed himself a little puff of pride. This movie was gonna kill at the box office. 

“Agreed,” the Soldier added. “You were marvelous.”

Heat flared across Steve’s face, and he ducked his head. For some reason, hearing the Soldier’s praise made fire burn in his gut and his stomach flip-flop around.

“Thank you.” He beamed up at the Soldier, and gently bumped shoulders with him. 

“Sooooo, you kids coming to the after party?” Tony grinned winningly, just as they were leaving out the front.

Pepper smiled as well. “You should. It’s a great deal of fun---”

Just as she was finishing her sentence, armed agents in Shield jackets started pouring in from the sides of the red carpet. A rather unassuming middle aged man in a suit walked up to them, empty handed, but smiling.

“Winter Soldier,” he said, nodding his head at them politely. “I’m Agent Phil Coulson of Shield, and I’m afraid I’m gonna have to ask you to come with us.”

Slightly surprising Steve, the Soldier stepped in between Agent Coulson and him, Tony, and Pepper. If anyone else had been standing near them, they’d long since fled. 

“Would you mind if I said goodbye to my date first?” the Soldier asked calmly. 

“Go ahead.” Coulson waved a hand towards Steve. “I’m a huge fan myself.”

“Thank you,” the Soldier replied. Then he turned his back to the agent and took Steve’s hand. “Steve. I have had a truly wonderful evening. Better than I think you will ever know. Thank you for inviting me.” With that he knelt down, his head bowed. The mouth portion of his mask just barely touched the top of Steve’s hand, and he could feel the ghost of breath across his skin. That little breath was enough to light Steve’s whole body on fire, burning him up from the inside out. 

Before Steve could say anything in response, the Soldier did a straight vertical leap upwards, easily reaching the metal scaffolding above them. He boosted up again, jumping up to catch...something. A rope maybe?

Then he was gone. Towed off into the night by a black painted craft that Steve could barely make out against the night’s sky. The whole escape couldn’t have taken more than a second or two, and Steve was left standing there, his jaw dropped in shock. 

\--


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note:  
> See end notes for translations.

  
_(Image by Talkplaylove)_

The next few weeks were a nightmare of law enforcement meetings. Steve tried to cut them a little slack. It was true that he’d spent the evening with the most wanted man in America and had mostly come out unscathed. 

But it was also true that he’d had exactly zero time with the Soldier alone. Every second of their interaction was both public and well documented. The only thing the Soldier had physically given him was the boutonniere, and that had been promptly confiscated. Much to Steve’s unhappiness. 

Whatever interrogation plans Shield _might_ have had were quickly put on hold, because apparently Sam had already called up Steve’s lawyer and had him on standby. So before Steve had even left the red carpet, Sam was already there with Matt Murdock in tow. 

Not that Agent Coulson wasn’t polite, but as Matt liked to say, lawyers just made sure that everything stayed polite. 

Sam’s yearly bonus was gonna be huge come December.

With the kind advice and intervention of Matt, Steve was free to finish up his press tour for the movie. Coulson had tried to get him to wear a wiretap at all times as well, but Murdock’s team quickly blocked that, pointing out that there was no way of pinpointing when, or even if, the Soldier might contact Steve again. It also helped that everyone was well aware of how impractical long term body wiretaps were. They did insist on tapping his phone and computer usage, and his entire apartment was searched top to bottom.

He was also asked to try and lure the Soldier in again with his twitter. That didn’t set easy with Steve at all. It felt disingenuous. He had to hope that the Soldier knew that Shield would be prompting him to say something. Steve was able to keep Shield from outright taking over his social media accounts, though, on the grounds that it was an important part of his career. The best he could do was to try and post stuff that he would have said anyways.

 

_@SteveGRogers  
Wonderful time at the premiere last night, Soldier ;) Best date I’ve had in ages. Up for a second?_

_@TheRealTonyStark  
Do it do it do it do it. And take pictures!!! _

_@SteveGRogers  
Didn’t you get enough pictures on the Red Carpet?_

_@TheRealTonyStark  
Not of that sexy arm! Come on, Cap, pics or it didn’t happen :p_

 

The whole conversation was insanely popular with fans and foes alike. Most of the fans went nuts over it, and not just with the retweets. Pictures from the premiere were everywhere, and Steve’s fan mail drastically increased. 

Unfortunately, his hate mail increased, too. People accused him of all manor of horrifying things, up to and including collusion with the murder of the Soldier’s victims. The debates were heated, with experts and random people alike detailing out exactly what they thought about the whole situation. 

Fortunately for Steve, the bad press was vastly out weighed by the good, to the point where Steve’s press tour for the movie actually ended up being extended by a few weeks. People were dying for the latest scoop. Initially, the movie studio wasn’t thrilled with the whole affair, but once it became clear that all the press wasn’t actually affecting the sales of the movie, they kept out of it. The worst Steve got from them was a stern warning to stay on the right side of the law. 

The best part was that Steve was right. Man Out of Time was a blockbuster hit, making $211 million in its opening weekend. Within seventy two hours of the North America release, it was already being declared the movie of the summer. 

But the real surprise came two weeks after the premiere, when Steve’s random twitter posts about the Soldier got an unexpected response. The first time Steve saw it, he about had a heart attack. 

 

_@WinterSoldier  
Hi there, Stevie. I had a great time at the movies with you. Best date I’ve had in years._

 

He called Sam right away.

“Did you see?” Steve tried to breathe normally. He failed. Holy shit, the Soldier was talking to him on twitter. 

“See what- _oh my god, really?!_ ” Something smashed in the background on Sam’s end, and Steve belatedly hoped it wasn’t anything important. “How did he even get the blue checkmark! Did the FBI verify him? Did Shield?”

There were no words. All Steve could do was shake his head silently, jaw dropped. Not that this helped out Sam at all on the other end of the line, but Steve figured he could be excused. 

“Ugggggggggg, call Matt. Call Agent Whoever. Do not get thrown in jail for this,” Sam said, the frustration coming through perfectly clear in his voice. 

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s gonna have to happen.”

Turns out, though, that Agent Coulson knew even before Steve did. Apparently he had a staff member keeping a weather eye out on all of Steve’s accounts. 

“Just act natural, Mr. Rogers,” Agent Coulson said when he’d shown up to Steve’s apartment later that day. “While the likelihood that the Soldier doesn’t realize you’re being monitored is slim, we’d like to keep him talking to you. Any information we can get could be a potential lead.”

The young dark haired agent that had come with Coulson snorted as she poked through Steve’s laptop. “Yeah, no chance of that. He knows we’re watching. Honestly, talking to you on twitter is pretty clever. We’re in touch with the company, but the Soldier logs in from a different IP address every time, and always proxied and bounced. I mean, he might slip up at some point and give us something we can track, but so far that’s not looking good.” She waggled her eyebrows at Steve. “Our best shot is getting you to convince him to meet up again.”

As much as Steve wanted to see the Soldier again, he really wished it wouldn’t happen. He didn’t want to be the one responsible for getting him caught. 

Either way, Steve began obsessively checking Twitter in the hopes that the Soldier would talk back to him. The incessant worry that came with each tweet was always overshadowed by the happy, glowy feeling that bloomed inside of him. Each and every one made him grin like a loon. 

The Soldier was talking to him.

_The Soldier was talking to him._

 

  
  
  
_(Images by Talkplaylove)_

_@WinterSoldier  
Gotta say, Stevie, I’m liking the new profile pics._

_@SteveGRogers  
I swear to god, I didn’t do this. I just woke up and it was changed!_

_@TheRealTonyStark  
Yeah, that was me. Hey, Soldier Boi, I promise I’ll keep adding in more pictures of Steve’s chest if you slide me some pics of that sweet, sweet cyborg arm ;) ;) ;)_

_@WinterSoldier  
You’re saying that like I can’t just watch Steve’s old movies and get an eyeful anyways_

_@SteveGRogers  
You’ve got kind of a one track mind, don’t you Tony_

_@TheRealTonyStark  
I’ve got my priorities right._

_@SteveGRogers  
STARK WHY CAN’T I CHANGE IT BACK?_

_@TheRealTonyStark  
Bwahahahahahahaha_

_@WinterSoldier  
^_^_

_@soldierbblove  
Omg the emotecon i can’t even whyyy_

_@ikbrennen  
Holy shit those pecs :grabbyhands:_

_@UltimateCapFan  
Hey, @WinterSoldier I’ll make you some fan mixes of Steve’s greatest hits! Just @ at me!_

 

The Soldier only ever responded to Steve, and occasionally Tony and Thor, and his tweets were few and far between. Steve cherished each one.

He tried to tell himself that it was the height of stupidity to get hung up on someone like the Soldier. It was dangerous. Idiotic even. They lived in different worlds. 

Steve loved his life. He did. But sometimes when he was alone in bed, he wondered what it might be like to have the Soldier there in his arms. He’d remember that breath on his hand and imagine what it would feel like on other parts of his body. His overactive imagination brought up a thousand different scenarios, each more frustrating than the last. 

The Soldier’s hands on him, the flesh hand hot on his skin, pushing his face down into the bed, while the hard metal prosthesis forcing his hips up. Presenting Steve’s eager ass for inspection. 

Or maybe the Soldier wouldn’t mind bottoming. Would want to let someone else take care of him for a while. And, oh, did Steve want to be that person. Get his hands in all that lovely, long hair and make the Soldier fall apart under him. Wringing pleasure after pleasure out of him until he was a boneless puddle of a man. 

Maybe afterwards they’d hold each other and watch old movies. Let the world sail by them for a while.

It almost surprised Steve how much he wanted the down time with the Soldier, too. Sex certainly was a huge part of the appeal, no doubt about that. But the Soldier had been kind and witty and funny. Steve wanted to hear him talk, to get his opinion on a thousand different things. 

Fuck, he was screwed. 

A month after the premiere, the Soldier’s tweets tapered off, eventually disappearing entirely. 

It shouldn’t have been as disappointing as it was. The two of them were never gonna work. It was just a date, and not even a real date at that. A bitter pill to swallow, sure, but one that Steve almost expected. The best he could do was just try not to think about it. 

Sometimes, though, alone in bed in the middle of the night, he couldn’t help but think of the Soldier’s trembling hand under his. 

Two and a half months after the premiere, Steve had written the whole thing off as a fluke. After pressure from Steve’s lawyers, Shield had even taken the taps off of his phone and computer. Not that it would have mattered. Every time the Soldier talked to him it was over Twitter, and not a single post held any useable information in it. 

So Steve didn’t even think about the Soldier when he tweeted out that he would be heading onto the Graham Norton show. After all, it was just another interview. He’d done dozens before that, and would probably do dozens more. 

This particular one was to help promote a charity that Steve had set up for disabled children, specifically helping children who needed long term physical therapy and medical assistance. It was a worthwhile cause, and one that was near and dear to his heart. He’d grown up with a number of issues, and through good doctors and good luck, he was able to overcome most of his problems. 

With the rampant success of Man Out of Time, Steve had found himself unexpectedly flush with cash. Sam had managed to wrangle him a percentage of the profits as his pay, rather than a stated salary. That had paid off big. Steve wanted to give some of that back.

Tony would be joining him on the show, since he was the first person Steve had recruited to help his new charity. Inspired by the Soldier, Tony had been tinkering non-stop at creating a more functional prosthesis, not to mention trying to find a way for it to be affordable to the average person. 

It was a great project and Steve was really excited about it. And when the Soldier inevitably failed to show up, well, Steve hadn’t invited him. So Steve wouldn’t be disappointed when nothing out of the ordinary happened.

He absolutely wouldn’t, no matter what the lead in his gut said.

\--

The Winter Soldier moved silently through the rafters of the sound stage. His matte black gear blended in perfectly with the black metal frame work and matching ceiling that all of the stage dressings were hung from. To be honest, he probably could have worn anything and still gotten through unseen; decades of painful experience had forced him to master his craft. 

Which was why Natasha was teasing the shit out of him on comms while he waited for the show to start. They’d known each other for many years and had endured similar circumstances for much of that time. Now that they were both free from their respective masters, they’d found a way to strike up their old acquaintance. 

She was probably the closest thing the Soldier had to a friend and he treasured it. It had been awhile since the Soldier was a real person, so the details on actual friendship were a bit sketchy. But they trusted each other on ops, shared weapons and information, and occasionally they let the other treat their wounds. He was one of the lucky few that knew to call her Natasha instead of Black Widow, and she’d been the first person he told when finally remembered his name was once Bucky. If that wasn’t friendship, what was?

So when Natasha had invited herself along on his second date with Steve, he bore it with as much grace as he could muster. 

Privately, he was also a bit grateful for the added help. It was ridiculously risky to make such a spectacle of himself, not just once, but _twice_. Especially after how the last job went. The Hydra cell should have been easy enough to breeze through, but some jackass in a robot suit had shown up part way through his infiltration of the base. He’d been forced him to drop is plan A and go straight to plan F. Things had gotten messy, to say the least. 

“Seriously, Winter. You need to ditch the Kevlar. Show off those abs.” The Soldier didn’t need to see Natasha’s face to know she was smirking. The smirk was audible. 

“Where would I keep all my knives?” he rumbled in reply, careful to pitch his voice low enough that nothing would be heard beyond his mask. 

“Mmmm, I wonder. Have you seen the footage from the premiere?” He had. Several times. “Rogers looked like he wanted to eat you with a spoon.”

He held back a sigh. This was the price for the best backup in the world. Time for a redirect. She’d know it for what it was, but it would give him five seconds of peace. “How’s security looking?”

“Same as it did five minutes ago. I’m in their control system as well. I’ll give you a nice opening when you drop in.”

That made him grin. It was childish, probably, but the Soldier did love a good entrance. For nearly a fucking century he’d been forced to work as a ghost. Nowadays, it was pretty damn nice to be seen. Coincidentally, it let the rest of Hydra know just what they should be pissing their pants over, too. 

_Admit it,_ he thought to himself. _You just want to impress Steve._

The Soldier quickly shoved that thought off to the back of his head. Showing up here was stupid. Courting Steve was stupid. The whole damn thing was stupid. 

But he was going to do it anyways, because it made him feel alive. That night on the red carpet had been one of the best the Soldier could remember, and he treasured it beyond words. Steve was funny and charming and _fierce_ in a way that the Soldier hadn’t expected. He made the Soldier laugh. So much laughter. The Soldier didn’t think he’d ever laughed so much. And then Steve held his hand when the Soldier’s mind spit up horrors; things achingly similar to what was on the screen and yet so much worse. To be comforted like that, to be held-- the Soldier had no words for how much it had touched him. Even if nothing else came of this whole ridiculous fiasco, that night was something the Soldier wouldn’t ever regret. 

That was probably the core of why he was back again, throwing himself into an objectively foolish situation for a covert operative. Granted, he was the best, and that wasn’t pride talking. It was just simple facts. Natasha was one of the few people in the world who could even try to keep up with him. Having her as backup made the whole plan just a little less ludicrous. 

Music struck up and the lights beneath him began to strobe as Norton stepped in front of the audience to introduce his guests. 

“Counting down to your entrance. I’m watching signal going out, too,” Natasha said in his ear. They both knew that the show was pre-recorded, so they wouldn’t have to worry about a live feed bringing authorities down on them. Guests weren’t allowed to have their phones, so all they really had to watch was what the staff was up to. Given how much Norton would probably love to have the surprise guest, the Soldier kind of doubted anyone would bother making a call. Still, never hurts to double check. “Take off your goggles at least. Only douchebags wear shades indoors.”

“Or people with photosensitivity,” he grumbled back. Like every other part of him, his eyesight had been enhanced. It made seeing in the dark a breeze, but it also made bright lights extremely unpleasant. Not that the Soldier would ever show discomfort, nor would he sustain any actual damage from blinding lights. His enhanced healing wouldn’t allow it. But now that he was trying to be a person, he could _choose_ to be comfortable, if he wanted. 

“Steve could see your pretty wolf eyes.”

He hated that this argument actually had some pull with him. As the show intro music piped in the background, the Soldier debated. 

“Winter. Trust me on this. He’ll want to see your eyes.”

Finally he sighed and took the goggles off. It looked awfully bright down there on set.

Natasha must have heard him, because she just cackled. 

He sighed again and waited for his cue. 

\--

_(Image by Talkplaylove)_

\--

“---Steve Rogers!” Graham Norton called from on stage.

Steve walked up the stairs at the back of the set and headed into the lights with a grin on his face. He gave the screaming crowd a wave and headed over to Graham for a hug and a hand shake. Tony had been introduced first, so he was already standing in front of the couch. The two of them hugged, and took their seats next to each other.

“Welcome, welcome, gentlemen! It’s so good to see you both again,” Graham said, settling into his chair.

“It’s a pleasure...to…?” Steve hesitated, because the intro music started again, and the lights began to strobe. 

“What even---” Graham sat up and craned his neck around to look off stage. “I’m sorry, it looks like we’re having some-- _oh._ ”

Right as the intro music wrapped up, the Winter Soldier dropped down from the ceiling, right at the center stage entrance for guests. The audience just _screamed_ in approval. 

“Oh my god,” Graham said quietly, though with the microphone on him the whole stage heard. One hand fluttered around the lines of his suit, straightening the collar and shirt buttons nervously, and his eyes were the size of silver dollars. 

Steve had to agree. The Soldier looked mouthwatering. He wore the same dark combat pants and boots as he had on the red carpet, but his jacket was a smooth black this time. The left arm was still open to the air, and his mask was in place. No goggles this time though. His pale eyes flickered around the room, only to settle on Steve. They crinkled a little around the edges, like maybe he was smiling under his mask.

“Ahm. Oh my god. Ladies and gentlemen, the Winter Soldier!” Graham stood up and straightened his jacket. With a large and somewhat shaky smile plastered on his face, he waved the Soldier forward. 

The Soldier nodded at Graham, and then walked over to where Steve was sitting.

Air burned in Steve’s lungs as Tony grabbed his arm and pulled him over, making room for the Soldier next to them. This couldn’t be happening. Why was this happening again? Steve was torn between excitement and disbelief. He thought the premiere was a fluke. 

Eventually the audience cheering settled down, but through it all the Soldier only had eyes for Steve. Holy shit, those eyes were unreal. Perfect, ice blue. Steve had never seen anything like them. 

“Hiyah, Stevie,” the Soldier said. It took Steve a minute to realize that everyone heard the greeting. The Soldier was wearing a tiny mic attached to his jacket. 

_Son of a bitch._ Steve had to grin. This was insane. He shouldn’t be as excited as he was. Anything reasonable he could have said completely shriveled up on his tongue, because he was stuck there, staring like an idiot into those pale eyes.

“I believe your line is, ‘Hello, Soldier’,” Tony said, elbowing him. 

“Or is it, ‘Sailor’?” Graham said with a laugh and a wink. The audience cheered and whistled.

Casting his eyes to the ceiling, Steve prayed for strength. The Soldier’s shoulders shook in a silent laugh. God, Steve had missed him. 

This was crazy. Of all the truly amazing things that had happened in Steve’s life, the bizarre series of events that led up to him meeting up with the Soldier, not once, but twice, was incredible.

“Soldier,” Steve finally said. He shook his head a bit, buying time to figure out what to say. His face hurt from the massive smile that had embedded itself across his face. “It’s good to see you.” Those pretty eyes crinkled around the corners and Steve just knew he was being smiled at in return. 

“Oh my goodness,” Graham said coyly. “Is this your official second date?” More whistling from the crowd. 

“I’d hate to be presumptuous. I did sort of crash the party, after all.” The Soldier finally tore his gaze away from Steve’s face, much to Steve’s disappointment, and tilted his head at Graham. 

“No. No, no, no, you are absolutely welcome here. I mean, as long as you’re here for pleasure and not business.” Graham turned to the crowd and made a face. 

The Soldier flexed the fingers on his left hand, and the mic on his jacket picked up the menacing clicking sound that the plates made as they adjusted and shifted. It was eerily reminiscent of a snake uncoiling. “You would know if I was here for business.” The Soldier’s voice had dropped to a deadly purr and a few strands of hair fell over his eyes. 

A visible shiver raced through Graham’s body and he let out a little _eep!_

Steve had a somewhat different reaction, and he blessed whatever muse inspired him to wear a longer cut suit jacket. 

Before things could escalate further, he bumped shoulders with the Soldier. “Come on, give the poor man a break. He’s not used to your Scare The Reporters game.”

The Soldier snorted and raised an eyebrow to Steve. “That was pretty fun, though.”

“Oh! Oh! We have clips of that!” Graham waved a hand at the TV behind him and made a show of shuffling his cue cards. “Turns out I’ve got a whole list of things to talk about, just on the off chance that the Winter Soldier showed up.” He nodded sagely at the audience. “Some lucky intern is getting a raise. Anyways, here! We have a clip of you terrifying someone from-- what is this? Hollywood Insider? Vogue?” He squinted at the screen, where a photo popped up of the two of them at the premiere.

  
_(Image by Talkplaylove)_

“Oh, no.” The Soldier shook his head. “The woman from Vogue was very nice. I should have thought to ask her about her own hair style.” He vaguely waved a hand at his hair. Steve noted it was once again looking touchably soft, and he thought he smelled a faint hint of raspberry.

  
_(Image by Talkplaylove)_

_Get your shit together, Rogers, and stop fucking trying to smell the Winter Soldier on a goddamn internationally broadcasted TV show._ Steve rubbed his eyes and tried not to look too guilty. He caught Tony giving him a knowing smirk and sighed. This was going to be on Youtube, he was sure of it.

In the meantime, the Soldier continued on. “She was lovely. I don’t know how she managed to get her hair teased like that. Did she use rollers?”

“Oh honey, they have people who do that for you,” Graham said, patting the air in a _there-there_ gesture. “She did not do that on her own, I guarantee you.”

The Soldier nodded slowly, his brow slightly wrinkled, as if acknowledging the validity of the statement. 

“Seriously, Terminator, everyone on the red carpet does,” Tony said casually. “Except maybe Steve, here. He’s a gel, spike, and go kinda-guy.”

“Uggg no, don’t start. You sound like my agent,” Steve groaned, ducking his head down to laugh. “Sam’s always bugging me to take a little more care with how I look. Get some designer labels or something.”

“Come on, Stevie. Gotta up your game,” the Soldier teased. “Even I got out the old metal polish and cleaned up my arm before I showed up to the theater.” He wiggled the fingers on his left hand.

“Ooo, burn,” Graham whispered.

“Speaaaaaaaaaaking of which.” Tony’s face cracked open into a huge, hopeful grin. “Can I touch your arm? Can I, can I, can I? I swear you to I will make you breakfast in the morning and I will still like you as a person.”

“Someone is eager.” Graham wiggled his eyebrows. The Soldier just looked at Tony warily. “Besides, Tony, didn’t you hack into Steve’s twitter just to put up some special pictures for the Soldier?”

An image of Steve’s twitter profile popped up on the TV screen, complete with a banner featuring his naked chest. Steve just sighed. He’d already given in trying to change it. It probably shouldn’t have surprised him, but his follower count took a spike after it changed, too. 

“Well, I mean, we are here to kind of promote this whole charity thing, for, like people who need prosthetic limbs?” Now it was Tony’s turn to waggle his eyebrows suggestively. 

“I heard.” The Soldier looked at Steve, and his eyes crinkled warmly.

“Oh! Oh! That’s a smile! You’re smiling under there, aren’t you!” Graham grinned and clapped his hands. 

“I’m not saying I want to take apart your arm here. That would be ridiculous and require more tools then what I have on my person right now, but I wouldn’t mind a loook.” To Steve’s complete lack of surprise, Tony dug through his pockets and came up with a mini screwdriver. 

The silence stretched for a moment as the the Soldier glared at the screwdriver. 

“It is for a good cause,” Steve said quietly. “Lots of folks out there could use something like what you have.”

That got him a flat look. “They wouldn’t be able to survive it being put on them,” the Soldier said coldly, making Steve wince. He’s put a lot of thought into how the Soldier could have gotten such an appendage, and nothing he came up with was pleasant. 

The silence stretched, then after a moment, the Soldier sighed and looked up to the ceiling and shook his head. “I am an idiot. Fine.” 

“YESSS!” Tony fist pumped into the air.

That just got him another glare as the Soldier stood up and shoo-ed Steve with his hands, making room for the Soldier to sit in between him and Tony. Right after he sat down, he pointed his flesh finger at Tony. “But! These are the rules. No screwdrivers. No tools of any kind. No looking at any internal part, or trying to get a closer look at any internal part. You can touch, _lightly_. Break these rules and you will get punched through a wall.”

As menacing as the Soldier sounded, Tony only had eyes for the Soldier’s metal arm. He did put away the screwdriver, so he was at least listening, but he immediately held out his hands. Steve was actually a little surprised that Tony waited at all, given how excited he was. Seemed to work, though, because the tense line of the Soldier’s back relaxed just a hairsbreadth. 

When the Soldier put his left hand into Tony’s waiting palms, Tony actually squeaked. The Soldier just looked sorrowfully at Steve and sighed. It was the biggest, saddest sigh that Steve had heard in ages, and it was fucking killing him.

“Oh no. The puppy dog eyes. My god, you are lethal,” Graham said with a shake of his head. “Look at that!” He waved a hand at Steve, and then pointed to the Soldier. “You’ve got to put out now,” he told Steve seriously.

That burning blush was right back again, and Steve desperately tried not to think about it. The Soldier did perk up a little though, and _everyone noticed it_. They simply roared with laughter.

“See? It’s a great idea, they’re all on board!” Graham waved at the audience. He winked at Steve a couple of times, and nodded coyly. “Best talk show ever. Relationship advice _and_ fashion tips.”

It took a minute for the audience to die down. Once they did, the Soldier just patted Steve on the hand. “Don’t worry, doll. I don’t expect a classy dish like you to be easy.”

“Oh my god, please tell me you didn’t get your pick up lines from a Dick Tracy dime novel,” Tony said absently, fingers carefully trailing over the plates in the Soldier’s arm. “Because that? That was terrible.”

“I think I just got called out.” The Soldier looked at the audience and raised an eyebrow. “That’s what you kids these days are calling it right? On that internet place?”

“Pfft.” Steve couldn’t stop smiling. His face hurt with it. “No way you’re that old.”

The Soldier just raised his gloved right hand into a shaky fist, and said in a high, trembling voice. “Baaaack in my daaaay! We had to walk to school in the snow! Uphill! Both ways! With newspapers in our shoes to keep our toes warm!” Nearly everyone in the soundstage was dying of laughter. Even Tony was smirking, enthralled though he was with his newest toy.

“Uh huh. Alright, grandpa.” Steve elbowed the Soldier. Lightly. He didn’t want to press his luck too hard, after all.

“You haven’t lived until you and seven of your closest family members have huddled around a radio to listen to FDR’s fireside chats,” the Soldier said dryly. 

“I don’t think half of our audience even knows what FDR’s fireside chats were.” Graham grimaced and shook his head. “Oh second thought, Steve, you might want to keep an eye on this one.”

Everyone laughed for a moment, while Steve’s face burned and the Soldier rolled his eyes.

“I swear, though, I know the interviews of you were surprisingly, well, funny, but I still didn’t expect it. The news on you is so scary,” Graham said, pausing to take a sip of his wine. “Oh, I’m sorry, we didn’t offer you a drink. But. Well.” He made a gesture at his face and winced. 

“I appreciate the thought,” the Soldier said kindly, shaking his head. “But not all the---”

“Hey, T-1000,” Tony interrupted, face still glued to the arm in front of him. “Could you, like, do that plate shifty thing. Promise not to touch. I just want to see it.” 

A cascade of tiny movements rippled up and down the prosthesis, as interlocking metal plates shifted together. It wasn’t quite like muscle flexing, but it was the robotic equivalent. 

“See, this? This is fucking genius.” Tony waved a finger at the movement. “Look at this. There’ve got to be, what, two? Three different sublayers? How far does it go up?”

“Stark,” the Soldier growled. “I am not taking my shirt off for you.”

“Awwwwww.” Graham pouted. Steve did too, but he tried not to be quite so obvious about it. He was a little jealous that Tony got to hold the Soldier’s hand, as well. That was another reaction he tossed deep into a dark pit, hopefully never to see the light of recorded air time. “Probably just as well, though. The internet is already obsessing over you two together,” he waved at Steve and the Soldier. “Adding in Tony Stark to that mix might break them.”

“A wise person once told me, that the moment you mention an idea out loud, the internet has created five new websites on that specific subject,” Steve said. He shook his head in mock horror. “Now look what you’ve done.”

“Ooop.” Graham covered his mouth for a moment and looked side to side. “Well, I guess we can look forward to new fan art. Speaking of! Soldier! I know the last time Steve was on the show, I shared with him some, ah, rather racy fanartist pictures of Captain America, but were you aware that fans did this?”

“Pardon?” The Soldier turned his attention to Graham and raised his eyebrows. “What, like all the fun pictures of me and Stevie’s character that are floating around?”

“ _Stevie,_ ” Graham mock whispered the audience, shaking his head and fanning his face. “A-DOR-able.” He turned back to the Soldier and cleared his throat. “I mean, yes! Yes. Truly, the fans are really amazing, and Captain America has a rather large following.”

“It’s true,” Steve said, pleased enough to talk about it, but a little wary of where the conversation was headed. He was well familiar with how Graham sometimes ambushed actors with various fan works. “The fans are great. I feel like we’ve been really blessed with people who care about the material, you know? They saw something in Cap that reached out to them, and that’s why we make movies. To entertain, sure, but to share something and touch lives.”

Graham waggled his eyebrows. “There certainly are a far number of fans who are interested in the touching part. For example,” he turned around in his chair, and waved at the screen. “Here we have a nice touching example of Captain America and the Winter Soldier on the red carpet.” 

The digital art that popped up showed Captain America and the Soldier enthusiastically making out, both in full uniform. Or armor, in the Soldier’s case. Over all, Steve felt like it was a fairly good rendering. That’s what he tried to focus on anyways, and not the thought of his tongue down the Soldier’s throat. From the way his face burned and how the audience howled, he knew he wasn’t doing a very good job. 

“Isn’t that adorable,” Graham said with a wink. “We don’t know for sure what happened in that theater, after all. Who's to say it didn’t happen?”

Steve risked a glance over to the Soldier, who was staring at the art on the TV with a great deal of focus. What little could be seen of his expression gave nothing away as to what he thought about it.

“And here’s a lovely after party shot. Ooooh, racey.” With another wave, a new imaged popped up. This one looked like digital art again, but featured the Soldier carefully peeling Cap’s uniform off in the back of a limo. The whistling and cheering drowned out any other sound, and Steve had to cover his face for a moment, or else die from sheer embarrassment. 

He said a brief prayer that there wouldn’t be anything else. 

“And this one has a little bit of post-coiltal cuddling. Very romantic.”

Steve risked a look up, and saw a rather lovely watercolor art of he and the Soldier cuddling in bed. Both of them were clearly nude under the blankets they were wrapped in, though the Soldier’s face was strategically covered by his long hair. The metal arm slung over Steve’s bare chest was a dead give away for who the image was supposed to be of. 

The audience laughed themselves silly. Which, fine, Steve could get why they were laughing. It was a little absurd. Mostly, though, it was sweet. He also knew damn well that the reason Graham showed this kind of thing was to get a reaction from his guests. Well, Steve had long ago figured out how to react to some of the more...personal things that his fans came up with.

He shook his head a bit and shrugged. “It’s beautiful art. No, really,” he said to the audience, who were all giggling at him. “It is. I think it’s great that people are so invested, and these are really lovely works.”

“They’re invested all right.” Graham smirked at the audience, then he turned to the Soldier, who was still staring at the last image on the screen. He’d gone sniper still next to Steve on the couch, which was sort of worrying. “How about you Soldier? What do you think?”

Deathly silence filled the sound stage as the Soldier stared at the art. The moment stretched as he looked, and a slight furrow dug into his brow. Finally, he took a short, deep breath, and his arm recalibrated up and down. He ducked his head to watch the metal move, and then he looked back up to the art. There was something...wild in his eyes, and Steve found his own breath catching in his chest at the sight of it. It was almost painful to watch. 

“If you…” The Soldier paused a moment and took a breath. His voice had gone low and gravely, and Steve leaned in to listen. “If you had any idea what it's like, how amazing it is, just to see this.”

That caused both Graham and Steve to tilt their heads in confusion. Tony was completely oblivious, happily watching the metal plates move and shift with the Soldier’s words. 

“I admit, porn is sort of amazing. The internet is a varied and wonderful place,” Graham said with a cheeky smirk to the audience. 

There were a few titters of laughter, but they got cut off as the Soldier shook his head. “No. You don’t understand. I am _old_. Decades have gone by and no one, not a single being, has looked at me like a person. A weapon, an experiment, a thing. But never a _person_. And these people,” he waved his hand at the screen. “I have never met them. All they hear about me is death. And yet...they see me as something soft. Something human.” 

The Soldier turned to look at Steve, and there was a wealth of pain and wonder in his eyes. “I don’t think you will ever know the treasure you’ve given me.”

Again silence reigned. 

Steve’s heart pounded in his chest. What could he say to that?

Before he hand a chance to think about it, Tony jumped in with, “Old? Like, how old? Old like disco or old like the pyramids?” He still hadn’t looked up from the metal arm, but now he was examining the joints on the fingers. 

The Soldier turned to look at Tony. “I know I don’t look it, but I am beginning to feel it in my heart. I feel thin...sort of stretched. Like butter scraped over too much bread.”

“Pfft, so young enough to still get Lord of the Rings references,” Tony rolled his eyes. There was a bit of giggling from the audience, and frankly Steve was grateful for it. Anything to break the mood. He knew the Soldier’s life couldn’t have been happy and fun, but Steve found that he wanted the Soldier’s time with him to be lighter. Better than that. 

Maybe if it was a fun enough time, the Soldier would keep showing up.

“Let’s put it this way, Stark. This arm was made before you were born, and it was the fifth one they put on me.” The Soldier raised an eyebrow.

“Fifth? Wait, what.” Now Tony looked up in confusion. “No way you are that old. I am already post two mid-life crises, and you look like you just escaped an edgy Berlin modeling shoot. Also, fifth? What happened to the first four?”

A small sprinkling of laughter floated around.

“Black is good, black is in,” Graham said in an elaborate German accent. 

“Ich dreh ein Ründchen auf dem Laufsteg,” the Soldier said in a deadpan tone. There were two or three very loud laughs from the audience.

“Yes, yes, you’re very fancy with the languages.” Tony made a shooing gesture with one hand. “Tell me about the arms.”

The Soldier snorted and shook his head. “Scientists.” He rolled his eyes. “The first one was too heavy. Heavy enough that the sheer weight ripped it off me. The second was ripped out during stress testing. The third ran too hot, and eventually melted off. The fourth was damaged.” The tone of his words was light, joking even, but his eyes were set in a cold glare. 

“There’s no way you could have survived that.” Tony shook his head. He leaned back a bit, and Steve could actually see him thinking through the problem. “That’s impossible.”

“And yet…” The Soldier opened his palms up, as if to say, _here I am._ “So. If you want my advice? Work on the lightest possible frame you can think of. Durability is good, but your prosthetic limbs need to put the least amount of strain possible on the support structures. Especially if you don’t plan on adding additional braces to the bones. Which sucks, by the way. Pay attention to the ambient temperatures they emit, and for Christ’s sake, give the frame a bit of bend. Every little shock to that limb is gonna go straight to the bones its attached to. Let it flex a little and it won’t hurt the wearer quite so much.”

The horror of it all was that the Soldier was clearly speaking from personal experience. Every single awful story that Steve had thought up about how the Soldier got his metal arm suddenly grew a thousand times more grim. 

“Jesus, you have the whole badass thing down pat, don’t you? I kinda want to clap.” Despite his words, Tony did not clap. He just side-eyed the Soldier hard for a moment and then went back to looking at the wrist joint. “Move your wrist back and forth for me Terminator.”

The Soldier flexed his hand up and down, and Tony hummed to himself. Just for good measure, the Soldier started to touch the tip of each finger to his thumb, one at a time.

“That’s fantastic. The dexterity required for that is incredible. Do you have sensation?”

“Stark.” The Soldier’s voice held a note of rebuke, but Tony just flapped a hand at him and continued poking at the wrist. 

“Annnnd we’ve lost him again,” Graham said quietly, looking at Tony. 

Steve had to nod. That was a pretty accurate statement. 

“Aren’t you worried about who else might be get that information?” Steve asked. This whole interview was going to be broadcasted around the world at some point. 

“Meh.” The Soldier shrugged. “Nothing that the relevant parties couldn’t find out easy enough anyways. They’re just gonna sit on that info. I might as well tell it to you guys and maybe jump start Stark in the right direction. Just make sure the really cool limbs go to the kids.” He poked Stark’s shoulder with his right hand. “What little kid doesn’t want to be part robot?”

“Right? Well, I mean, we’ll have to figure out something that can be adjusted as they grow, but hell yeah. Cyborg children for the future.”

Both Steve and Graham shrugged and nodded, because really, the Soldier was right. That did sound pretty awesome. 

“We’re almost ready for our musical guests to come on, but before then, I have one more thing I need to add here.” Graham looked at Steve and grinned evilly. 

_No_.

Steve thought he might know what Graham was cackling about. He really, really hoped he was wrong. 

“Since this is sort of your second date, I thought that we, as fellow witnesses to this momentous occasion, might take the traditional parental role.” Graham nodded seriously. 

“Oh no.” Steve closed his eyes and groaned. Yeah, he knew what was coming.

“Oh yes,” Graham practically cackled. “It’s time for embarrassing childhood photos. Or in Steve’s case, we have his high school yearbook photos.”

There was the thing Steve was dreading. The stupid picture that everyone loved to drag around of Steve before he bulked up. He was dressed up nice for his senior prom. The theme was Swing Dancing, and younger-Steve was sporting a massively oversized tan suit jacket and a thin black vintage tie. It was the smallest suit he could find and it still hung off him like a potato sack. His floppy hair had been gelled and combed over, and he was sporting a dorky half grin.

"Блин, какой милый!" the Soldier said, one hand flying to his mask in shock. 

Fuck, now the Soldier was laughing at him. That was….just…..great. 

Steve rubbed his forehead.

“Oh my god, Russian too? Aren’t you a fancy bitch.” Graham straightened his cue cards and looked at the Soldier with a sly smile. The audience giggled.

“Stevie, you’re adorable!” The Soldier put a hand on his shoulder and shook him. “Oh my god.”

Full on gut busting laughter broke out in the audience, and there was another round of wolf whistles and catcalls, too. 

“You know,” Steve looked at the Soldier in irritation, though that was tempered by how pleased he was that the Soldier was touching him. God, he had it bad. “That’s not what I heard in high school. Mostly, I just heard a lot of No Thank You’s. No one wants to dance with the guy they can step on.”

“Pffft, idiots, all of them.” And then the Soldier wrapped his arm around Steve’s shoulder and dragged him in closer, much to Steve’s delight. “You worth a million of them.”

“Like, literally,” Tony said off-handedly. Then he tapped on the Soldier’s hand. “Hey, Soldier, how do you feel about a job in consulting? Get out of the murder business? Hang out with me and watch movies. You don’t even need to do anything, just let me look at your arm full time. Steve can come, too. I got room.”

But the Soldier just laughed at him. “I’ll think about it.”

“That’s not a no!” Tony grinned. 

“Now we’re on to career opportunities. It’s been an exciting episode,” Graham said to the audience, and they cheered in response. “But now it’s time for our musical guests! The Guardians of the Galaxy!” 

The crowd roared, and the lights shifted over to the side stage, where the band had set up. The moment the stage lights went up, the electric guitars started. The Guardians were a popular band in the States, though Steve only had passing interest in them himself. 

It was too loud for Steve to really hear what was going on next to him, but it looked like Tony was muttering to the Soldier. Whether or not the Soldier was actually responding, or even paying attention, was hard to gauge. His eyes carefully roamed across the audience, similar to the way he watched the crowds around them at the premiere. 

As tempting as it was to lean in and try and hear what they were talking about, Steve knew better. They had at least half the audience there watching their every move, and all of it being recorded. The last thing he needed was video evidence of him practically crawling into the Soldier’s lap just to get in on his chat with Tony. 

It was fun to think about, though.

\--

If Tony Stark could marry anyone right then and there, he would definitely, hands down, no questions asked, marry the Soldier’s arm. 

God, it was fucking beautiful. It shined like chrome, but it definitely was not that particular type of electroplating. No, this beauty was made out of some type of alloy. It was far, far too light to be any of the metals he was familiar working with. And considering how much he worked with metal, that was saying a damn lot. 

He’d hoped the Soldier would show up tonight. Not that this whole little charity trip was a calculated bid to try and lure him out. That would be ridiculous, and odds that were too long even for Tony. No, it was kind of more an unexpected bonus. Tony really was fascinated by the Soldier’s prosthesis. When Steve had approached him with the idea, it really had caught his attention. 

It certainly brought about some unanticipated opportunities though. Like getting a chance to talk to the Soldier one on one without Shield looking over his shoulder. 

And Shield had been looking. Avidly, in fact. That creepy little spy organization knew something about Tony that almost no one else did. 

The Winter Soldier wasn’t the only one running around taking out terrorist organizations. 

Tony grinned and ran a finger across those gorgeous shifting metal plates. The design was almost, _almost_ like that of his own Iron Man suit. The way the plates interlocked, screwed in together, bringing both strength and flexibility of movement. 

This arm, though. It was obvious the thing was actually a separate cybernetic attachment, and at the very least the hand was completely free of organic matter. Tony could tell that just by how the joints fit together. The Soldier had to have sensation. He had to. At least some sense of pressure. That kind of tech was amazing. Brilliant. 

It was also not the main reason why he wanted to be close to the Soldier. Close enough that once the rock band struck up and their mics turned off, Tony could have a little chat with him. 

“So, Soldier boy,” he said, just barely loud enough to hear himself talk. Tony knew he wouldn’t really need to do more than whisper. The Soldier was enhanced enough that he could probably hear all their heartbeats. “How’d the raid on that Hydra base go?”

The plates shifted down the Soldier’s arm again, and Tony noted the configuration was one that would increase the strength of the limb. _Ha ha ha, hit a nerve,_ he thought with dry amusement. 

“You’re the robot man. Or you control him,” the Soldier replied evenly.

“Oooh, you are smart.” Tony was actually a little impressed. It had taken the Soldier just a few seconds to put all those pieces together. 

“To be honest, the job sucked. Your bungling screwed my plans.” The Soldier wasn’t even looking at him, just constantly scanning the audience. A pity he wasn’t looking at Steve, either, because the stars in Steve’s eyes were so large that NASA probably should investigate. 

“Went fine for me,” Tony said cheerfully. “I got all the info I could from their computers. Anything they thought they had, I’ve got now.”

“Except for everything from prior to 1985, which was all kept in physical records.” Now the Soldier glanced at him, and the look he gave Tony was nothing short of smug.

“Except everything prior to 1985.” If Tony sounded a little sour, well that’s because he fucking was. Freaking dead tree records. Why did anyone bother with them? Didn’t Hydra have interns to punish with scanning old documents in? “Which is why I’m hoping for a little information exchange.”

“Oh really?” The Soldier sounded completely unconcerned, as if he were talking about the weather or how much cream went in his coffee.

The answer was none. No cream. Only more caffeine. It is the only way. 

“Yeah, really. You, sir, have things that I want, and I have things I know you want. You see,” Tony paused to admire the flexing of those metal plates again. It was hypnotic. Could replace hypnotoad any day. He shook his head and started again. “You see, I have a burning personal hatred for a certain group called The Ten Rings, over a little matter of kidnapping and attempted murder.”

“Ten Rings is an offshoot of Hydra,” the Soldier said thoughtfully. “They actually predate Hydra at large, but they joined the fold sometime during the Cold War.”

“Yuuup. And you have all that tasty, tasty, pre-80’s info on them. And likely have more stashed away in your secret hideout.” Tony tore his gaze away from the arm so he could look the Soldier in the eyes. “Is it a van? Do you live in a van? Because you seem like a live in a van kind of guy. Some dark, windowless monstrocity with ‘Free Candy to Nazis Only’ spray painted on the side.”

He felt more than heard the Soldier snort in amusement. “No, I don’t live in a van. Get to the point. What do you have that I want?”

“I have all that sweet info I’ve been scraping off every Hydra server I come into contact with. Also, I have connections to Shield, and let me tell you, they want you so bad they are drawing little hearts in their diaries.”

“I bet they do. No one wants to let a good weapon go to waste.” The Soldier’s voice was cold as his namesake. 

This is where it would get tricky.

“See, I’m sure that’s what their big boss in charge thinks? Old One Eye? But I’ve got a line on another guy. Agent Bland from the premiere. Now he seems to think that you could be wooed over to their side, with all the rights, privileges, and, shockingly, amnesty for past crimes that other flipped agents enjoy.” Tony rolled his eyes and waved a hand around dismissively. “Blah, blah, blah, people being treated like people, blah, blah, blah, basic human decency. To be honest I kinda stopped listening halfway through. You get the picture though.”

“You’re working for Shield then?”

“Eh, I’m a contractor. My rates are really high though, they can’t afford more than a few hours a week.” Tony wiggled each of the metal fingers in front of him, taking note of how much lateral give each knuckle had. 

The Soldier snorted. Then he paused for a moment, eyes flicking over to the band just about finishing their set.

“I’ll think about it,” he said finally. 

“Sweet. Can you rotate your wrist again for me?”

\--

“You should take the deal,” Natasha said in the Soldier’s ear. “Assuming it’s actually that good.”

The Soldier would have argued with her, but the lights were coming back on and the band was wandering over. His mic was active again, meaning anything he said would be audible to the audience. 

Which, of course, Natasha knew. She could talk all she wanted and he wouldn’t be able to respond. He snapped his teeth together lightly, knowing she would hear it and catch his irritation.

All she did was chuckle quietly. “Fine, fine, we’ll talk about this after. But think about it, Soldier. The way we are now… There isn’t a life for us outside of what we do. Steve seems like something special, though. If you wanted out, this might be the only way to do it.”

At this point, the band had walked up and taking their seats on the extended couch. The Soldier looked them over curiously. All of them were dressed up in garishly futuristic outfits; all leather and metal bits and colorful face paint. 

The lead singer sat down right on the other side of Stark, and kept looking at the Soldier. He had on brown leather pants, an old t-shirt, and a heavy brown leather coat. There were fake ray guns in holsters at his sides, a part of the light show they just did on stage. On his face was a mask, not dissimilar to the Soldier’s own. With the exception that the Soldier’s was actually useful for something and the singer’s looked like just heavy plastic, along with some red lensed goggles on top of it.

“Star Lord and the Guardians of the Galaxy, everyone!” Graham waved a hand at them and clapped. “Well done! What an amazing performance.”

When the Soldier decided to crash this little show, he and Natasha had looked up all the available information on the band as part of their regular recon. Guardians of the Galaxy started as an 80’s cover band, playing shitty venue after shitty venue for more than a decade. They hit good luck with their single The Power Stone, and had been steadily rocking the charts since then.

“Yeah, thanks, Graham,” Star Lord aka Peter Quill said, still obviously staring at the Soldier. He was kind of nodding his head up and down. Some kind of posturing, maybe? The Soldier wasn’t terribly sure. It looked odd though. “So you’re the Winter Soldier, huh?” he scoffed. “Well, I have a fancy mask, too. And a better jacket.”

“Peter,” the woman next to him sighed and rolled her eyes. She was dressed similarly in brown leathers and laser guns, but had green stage makeup on. That was Gamora, no last name. She’d dropped it early on in the band’s careers, apparently trying to make a clean break from her abusive father. 

“Are you seriously trying to pick a fight with a terrorist?” Rocket, also no last name, said from the end of the couch. He was a skinny man with black stage makeup smeared over his eyes in a solid band. He’d also skipped the leathers the rest of them favored; instead he was in a jumpsuit, modified with several dubious looking inventions of his own making. “That guy has actually killed people, and you want to get into a pissing contest over who has the best mask?”

“It’s not a pissing contest,” Quill sniped back. “Because mine is clearly better. I’ve got awesome goggles.”

“You know, the Soldier was wearing goggles at the premiere for Man Out of Time,” Steve said casually. “Nice dark red ones, too, if I remember right.”

_Oh, you shit stirrer, you,_ the Soldier thought with glee, glancing at Steve. There was a hint of a smirk to Steve’s full, pink lips. The Soldier kind of wanted to kiss it off. 

“That seems strangely coincidental,” Drax said next to them, his eyes narrowed. The drummer for the band was also in brown leather pants, but he opted to go shirtless, showing off his elaborate tattoos. What color they were supposed to be, the Soldier couldn’t quite tell. So much green stage makeup had been smeared all over the man that the ink designs almost looked red under the light. 

“It is. Absolutely.” Quill nodded quickly. 

Rocket looked between them all, eyes narrowed. “Quill, on the incredibly low chance that you actually win the inevitable beat down, I claim his arm.”

“Hey, I got dibs!” Stark piped up, holding the Soldier’s hand close to his chest. 

“Star Lord, man!” Quill hissed at Rocket. “My stage name is Star Lord.”

“Have you ever actually been to space?” the Soldier asked.

“Pfft,” Quill scoffed. “No. Have you?”

“Yes.” Low orbit counted. The Soldier was counting it, anyways. 

The rest of the people on the couch stared at him while the audience burst into giggles. 

Graham waved his cue cards at his face, fanning himself. “This is getting heated,” he mock whispered to the audience. 

“Now I’ve kinda got to know. When did you go to space?” Steve asked, tilting his head in curiosity.

He furrowed his brow, trying to place the exact year. “Early 2000’s, I think. My former owners required me to be on the other side of the planet in under three hours. Sub-orbital travel got me there in two.”

“Owners?” Graham asked, frowning.

“Aww, Graham.” The Soldier tilted his head and smirked, and his voice dropped to a menacing purr. They couldn’t see it, but it felt nice to be able to make expressions when he wanted to. “You didn’t think I wanted to be like this, did you? That’s adorable.”

He could see exactly when the implications of that settled in, because the look of sheer horror that came over the faces of everyone around him.

“Soldier,” Natasha warned in his ear. That was going too far, and they both knew it. He shouldn’t have said that. Should have just left it up for the interested parties to guess about. But, well, fuck it. 

“Dude, you are creepy as fuck,” Rocket said.

“Yes. He is a real man,” Drax added, nodding slowly. 

“I’m a man.” Quill sounded indignant. 

“No. You are a boy playing dress up. He is a man.” Drax continued to nod sagely. “His large, powerful legs and broad shoulders are those of a person who has known adversity, and survived.”

“They are really nice legs.” Gamora gave the Soldier’s pants a significant look. 

Quill looked at her, and the tilt of his head and strain on his neck implied outrage. “Gamora!” he hissed.

“I am Groot,” Groot said quietly. As far as the Soldier knew, that’s all the man ever said. He was a naturalist, apparently, and prefered to both dress and act like the ancient redwood trees he so loved. 

Honestly, the Soldier had to wonder if the whole group did LSD in their free time, because that would explain a lot. 

“Groot’s right,” Rocket piped up. “He could totally bust a pumpkin with his thighs.”

Gamora leaned forward to point at Steve. “You might want to be careful of that.”

At this point the audience were just dying in their seats, and Steve turned the most fetching shade of pink. From the looks of it, the blush easily spread down his neck, past his collar. The Soldier had to wonder how far it went. 

“Alright! That’s it!” Quill pulled off his goggles and mask, revealing blue eyes and a scruffy looking beard. He stared right into the Soldier’s eyes and said, “You. Me. Dance off. Right now.”

The Soldier blinked once, very hard. “What?”

“You heard me! Dance off, bro!” Quill stood up and threw his arms out wide. “Come on. You afraid to take on the master? You’ll only get your ass kicked and you know it.”

He stalked over to the stage area where the band had performed, waving the Soldier towards him the whole time. 

“Oh. Oh, you need to do this,” Natasha said. “You must.”

The Soldier just blinked again, mouth open. He furrowed his brow for a moment, and looked around really quick. Had someone slipped _him_ LSD? Because this didn’t make any damn sense.

“You afraid, Soldier?!” Quill was spinning around with his arms wide. “That’s a damn pity, because I thought better of you.”

The audience started chanting, _soldier, soldier, soldier!_ much to the Soldier’s irritation. Stark cast an annoyed look at them, too, as if their volume was disturbing his research. The rest of the band just shrugged, like this was normal. 

Steve, though. Steve was grinning. He bumped the Soldier’s shoulder with his own. “You did say you liked to dance.”

Shit. He did say that. The Soldier closed his eyes and slumped over, and the audience screamed. 

“Yesss,” Natasha whispered in his ear. “I’ve got your music selections ready. You’re starting with [ Le Corsaire, Conrad Variation](https://youtu.be/IIj-TQP5zQc).”

“I’m wearing goddamn combat boots,” he grumbled at her, for once ignoring the fact that he shouldn’t even be talking to her. They both had trained in ballet, both as a method of physical and mental conditioning and as a way to keep up their flexibility.

“You could take them off?” Graham suggested. 

At the same time, Natasha piped in with, “Oh you’ll be fine. There’s no pointe work, but there _are_ a lot of dramatic poses.”

The Soldier gave Graham a deeply unimpressed look. 

“Please, if the Iron Giant here has seen Lord of the Rings, he’s certainly seen Die Hard.” Stark’s voice was light, but he was pouting. No doubt annoyed that his new favorite toy was going away shortly. 

But the Soldier just shook his head and stood up. Cheers broke out, and he shook his head again. “I’m so rusty,” he mumbled. 

“Bullshit.” He could hear the grin in Natasha’s voice. 

“You’ll do great, Soldier.” Steve beamed up at him. 

That smile was pretty nice, the Soldier had to admit. Very, very nice indeed. 

He waved a finger at Graham. “You’re not going to freak out if I take off my jacket are you?”

Graham actually looked like he’d won the jackpot. “Oh! Oh, no. No, no, no, no! Please. Feel free!”

_I am going to regret this._

The Soldier sighed, and walked over to the side stage. As he went, he swiftly unzipped and unbuttoned his heavy jacket, shrugging it off. There was some initial squealing with glee that quickly turned to gasps, because under the jacket was a very nice custom rig for several guns and as many knives as he could fit on it. That was on over a nice white tank top. 

And so what if his rig looked a little like suspenders. He liked suspenders. They looked dashing. 

The tank top did show off how the metal arm covered up to his shoulder, and the massive array of scars that radiated out from it, but, oh well. 

As he stalked up to Quill, he tossed his jacket up into the air, hooking it perfectly on one of the metal light support beams up in the ceiling. He knew he’d be more comfortable dancing without the jacket, but he didn’t want to leave it around where anyone could grab it. 

He stood in front of Quill and adjusted the glove on his right hand. 

Quill looked at him, eyes wide, but still putting on a good show. “Alright, alright, that’s. That’s really awesome looking, but that doesn’t mean you can dance!” He held a hand up and pointed, seemingly arbitrarily. “Graham! [Smooth Criminal, Michael Jackson](https://youtu.be/h_D3VFfhvs4).”

Music piped in, and Quill immediately started with what the Soldier assumed was Michael Jackson’s dance routine. The Soldier watched him critically, noting his several weak points and each place he was unbalanced. What a shame. 

Quill ended on an elaborate move where he threw up one arm and screamed like he was injured. 

There was massive applause. The Soldier just raised an eyebrow at him.

“Incoming,” Natasha said.

The Soldier struck the first pose just as the music started, arched high up on the balls of his feet, hands over his heart, and head held high. From there the music bounced along, it’s grand brass entrance leading him into the first arabesque. He held the position for a heart beat, and then lept around the room, spinning high into the air. After each spin, he dropped straight to the floor in an elaborate pose. Arabesque, leap, spin, pose, leap, spin, spin, kick…

Despite where he learned it, and why, the Soldier still enjoyed the act of dancing. Ballet was fluid and required absolute body control. It was easy to get caught up in the movements, to fall into making every pose perfect.

Around the stage he went, crossing the short stage back and forth. It wasn’t a long solo, which he was certain that Natasha took into account, but it ended on a very dramatic pose; him kneeling on one knee, one arm flung towards the ceiling, and the other flung out back behind him.

There was nothing but screaming from the audience. After holding position for three full heartbeats, he stood up gracefully and gave a short bow to the audience. That just made them scream more.

He turned to look at Quill, and raised an eyebrow. 

“No. That’s not dancing. That’s. That’s.” Quill shook his head, waving a hand in the air. “That’s classical crap. I’m talking about real dancing. Graham? It’s time to bring out the Bacon! [Footloose](https://youtu.be/wFWDGTVYqE8). Gimme Footloose.” He nodded quickly now, waving towards himself, inviting the music in. 

The snappy music came up, and Quill started by tapping his foot. Then he bounced and ran and flung himself around the stage. It looked choreographed, so the Soldier assumed it was the official dance for the song. To be far, he seemed to do a decent job of it. This time the music lasted for nearly a minute and a half. Quill seemed intent on being as flamboyant as possible, running up to the Soldier to dance in his face before flinging himself away.

“Hrmm. Dancing, huh,” Natasha mumbled. “Tango?” The Soldier clacked his teeth, knowing she’d take that as ‘no’. “Ballroom dancing?” Another sharp click of the teeth. “Oooh. Lindy hop?”

That had some merit. He checked out Steve in his peripheral vision, and was gratified to see the man looking very pleased and excited. 

He nodded slightly, and Natasha hissed out a, “Yesssss.”

When Quill was finally finished, it was with another dramatic pose, arms flung up. Again, there was much cheering and applause. 

Once it died down, the Soldier stepped over to the couch and held out his hand. “Hey Stevie, can I have this dance?”

The audience oooOOOOOOOooo’d, and Steve turned beet red. “Soldier, you do not want me to dance. I’m… so, so bad.”

“Pfft. You just need the right partner.” The Soldier shook his hand a little, and Steve turned even redder. But he took the Soldier’s hand and followed him back to the stage. Excellent. 

“[Glenn Miller’s, In The Mood](https://youtu.be/c2aqHGaSxRI) coming up,” Natasha said. 

“Soldier, I really, really can’t dance,” Steve stammered. 

“It’s no sweat, Stevie. I’ll lead, you just follow along.” He knew Steve couldn’t see it, but he was grinning as wide as could be under his mask. “I’ll catch you.”

“Wait, _catch_?” 

But the music had started and the Soldier was using the starting beats to grab hold of Steve’s hands. And then the Soldier was dancing with the music, pushing and pulling Steve’s body back and forth with him. It was so damn true, Steve couldn’t dance worth a damn.

The Soldier couldn’t care less. This was the most fun he’d had in ages. 

Since Steve wasn’t really getting the foot work, the Soldier decided it was time for the really fun part. Using Steve’s hand’s as leverage, he started spinning Steve, then himself, then both of them, around and around in time with the music. Slowly at first, but then faster and faster, with more elaborate steps, at least for him. Steve stumbled alone, but was grinning like crazy in his arms, and the Soldier couldn’t ask for more. 

Then the Soldier decided to step it up. He grabbed Steve under the arms and tossed him up into the air, spinning him around, and catching him safe and sound. He used the momentum from that to swing Steve down between his legs, and then back up again. Spinning, tossing, even throwing him over to slide down the Soldier’s back once. 

The absolute best part was listening to Steve laugh breathlessly with every toss. 

He knew Natasha let the song go a touch longer than it should have, given the venue. He’d have to buy her a new semi-automatic as a way of saying thanks. 

When they finally stopped, Steve stood panting wrapped up in the Soldier’s arms. His smile was perfectly radiant and the Soldier was breathless with it. His heartbeat pounded so loudly in his ears he couldn’t even tell if the audience was applauding or not, and he didn’t even care. 

As wonderful as it was, the Soldier knew all good things couldn’t last. He wanted to stay, to talk and joke and _live_ a little longer. It couldn’t happen, though, and he knew damn well that nothing could top the high of that dance. 

So with a slightly diminished smile, he pulled back. Again, he knelt in front of Steve, bowing his head over Steve’s hand. And if he kissed the inside of his mask when he touched it to the top of Steve’s hand, well, no one would know but them. 

Then he leaped up again towards the ceiling, easily clearing the distance to the metal scaffolding above. He quickly grabbed his jacket and ghosted out, silent as the grave. 

For once his heart felt as light as his footsteps. 

\--

The next night when it aired, the Soldier and Natasha sat on a shitty couch in a safe house in Paris. They had popcorn and soda and about twenty boxes of take out, all ready and waiting.

“This is gonna be great,” Natasha said with a grin. She was dressed in old ratty pajamas and only had her knives and one gun strapped to her. The Soldier was the same, relaxing into the feeling of being wrapped in soft flannel and minimally armed. 

“I cannot believe I did this. We did this.” The Soldier muttered, shaking his head. He had a large carton of noodles, and was busy stuffing his face with the delicious fried goodness that was cheap Chinese food. The mere fact that he was allowed to eat this, or anything else he wanted, whenever he wanted, was still a thrill.

“I know right?” She shook her head, and popped a dumpling in her mouth. She chewed for a moment, food shoved into her cheek like a chipmunk. “So, like---” she swallowed, “---you thought about that deal?”

He’d done nothing but think about it. 

It was true that his little tour of revenge had a life span, and that life span was rapidly coming to an end. There were more people he had to eliminate, but the job was just… so… _huge_. Hydra had burrowed so damn deep into so many different organizations that it would take him a lifetime to dig them out. Eventually, his luck would leave him and he’d either wind up dead or imprisoned. Or recaptured and reconditioned. It was inevitable. 

Involving Shield had been a way to draw that out. All he had to do was dig up the information, kill off a couple of key individuals, and then give everything else over to Shield to let them finish up. So far it had worked like a dream. 

But the more he interacted with them, the more likely it would be that they’d eventually catch up with him. Somehow. 

He could run, sure, but that would mean giving up his hunt, and that was something he wasn’t willing to do. The people who made him had to be stopped. Permanently. There could be no more Winter Soldiers. 

If Shield was really offering amnesty, that was a hell of a bargaining chip. But only if they were willing to let him continue on shutting Hydra down. As far as he could tell, the group of agents that were chasing him didn’t have any affiliation with Hydra, but he knew damn well that at least some part of Shield was compromised. The head of that particular branch of Hydra was one he’d cut off first, but all the peons were still running around.

“What about you?” he asked finally. “You interested in coming in from the cold?”

To his vast surprise, she didn’t answer right away. The Soldier knew better than to press her, though. Better just to let her answer in her own time. They chewed in silence for a while, waiting for the show to come on.

“I think I might be,” she said quietly. “I’m… tired, of not being a real person. Of always pretending to be one.”

The Soldier could see that. The Black Widows were more infiltrators than anything else, and they slipped in and out of roles as easily as breathing. They played the spy game more than the Soldier was ever allowed, though he did get a fair amount of training in it. He was more brute force to her finesse. 

His mask was so no one would see his face. Her mask was her face. 

“You wanna go in together?” he asked. “We could watch each other’s back. At least one person we can trust in yet another den of snakes.”

She looked at him and smirked. “You trust me?”

“You know I do.” He huffed a smile back at her. 

The silence after that was easy. Both of them were on the same page, and now both of them were thinking of all the things they’d need to do to get ready for the turn in.

“You gonna keep seeing Rogers?” Natasha took another huge bite and waggled her eyes at him.

Heat touched his cheeks and he rolled his eyes at her. “Yeah. Yeah, I think I want to. I donno. You think he’ll be able to handle being with a killer like me?”

That netted him a thoughtful look. 

“I think he might. More importantly, I think it’s worth trying to see if he can.” She took a slurp from her grape soda and shrugged. “Besides, you two looked adorable.”

He laughed, and took a drink of orange soda. The music for the show started up, and they both leaned in a little. 

“So we’re really gonna do this,” she said after a minute.

“Yeah. I think we are.” There was some wonder in his voice, and damn if that wasn’t a strange sensation. He shrugged. “Now I just need to find a good time to make it happen.”

“Oh my god, Bucky, you are the most dramatic bitch I know.” Natasha laughed at him and rolled her eyes.

He snorted, but couldn’t actually refute that particular statement. 

\--

Steve practically floated out of the studio. The grin on his face was ridiculous and he knew it. He couldn’t force himself to give a rat’s ass, though, because meeting up with the Soldier had been just as magical the second time as it was the first. 

The whole night replayed over and over in his mind. How the kind and flirty the Soldier was. How his beautiful eyes crinkled up so that Steve just _knew_ that he was smiling. And that dance. 

That dance. 

Wow. Even when Steve was a gawky teenager, he’d never had someone toss him around the dance floor like that. Literally. His feet left the ground. Not only was it unbelievable romantic, it was also hot as _fuck_ that the Soldier could throw him in the air, effortlessly it seemed. It was a damn good thing that the Soldier had left right after that, because Steve hadn’t been able to put two words together. 

He was so giddy that he didn’t even care about the completely unimpressed look Sam gave him the moment he got off stage. Nor was he at all phased by the fact that Agent Coulson and his team were at his hotel room the next morning. He’d given them a call as soon as the show was done, and apparently the studio had also called the authorities, so there were some Interpol agents who’d showed up in interview him, too. The moment Shield walked in, though, they’d taken over the investigation with ease. 

Interestingly, the production staff had said they’d tried to call the authorities earlier, during actual filming, but none of the calls made it though. From what Sam told him, there was a fairly big blow up about whether or not the show could even be aired, but the BBC’s lawyers pushed it through. 

So Steve was back to 24/7 surveillance, and he couldn’t even find it in himself to be mad about it. The night the show aired, ratings soared. Sam was getting calls left and right for interviews, and funny enough, more job offers. Honestly, Steve had expected to get _less_ offers. After all, film studios hated liability. But apparently the press was too good. 

His twitter exploded. Fans and trolls swarmed his tweets, each one trying to get a response from the Soldier. But none came. That was a little disappointing, but not as much as it could have been. Steve wished he’d had more of a chance to talk to the Soldier. To see what he’d been up to and ask why he’d stopped tweeting back. Maybe it was because he had a lot of work to do? Maybe it was because Shield was watching Steve so closely?

This time Steve didn’t let himself get upset about it. The Soldier had shown that he was still interested, and that was all Steve really cared about. 

He got into the habit of inviting the Soldier to join him while he was out doing events. Steve really wanted to invite him to dinner, but the last thing he wanted to do was say that over twitter. There was already enough speculation. Next time the Soldier showed up, because Steve was certain there would be a next time, he would ask. 

Maybe the Soldier would even say yes.

\--

Around a month after that episode of Graham Norton Show aired, the Soldier and Natasha had their plan together. Public was good, and hiding in plain sight was what Black Widows were perfect at. They’d show up, chat with Steve, and get him to get them in contact with his minders. 

Simple counter-intelligence had shown that Steve was being closely stalked by Agent Coulson’s team of Shield agents. Further digging had proved that Coulson was as straight laced as they came, and high up enough in Shield that he only answered to Director Fury. Fury played the expedience game, but Coulson actually seemed to have a soul. Another interesting fact was that his team already had its own fair share of ex-enemy intelligence. That bode well for this little deal being the real thing. 

Which was why the Soldier found himself walking around Wizard World Chicago Comic Con in full armor, with the Black Widow at his side. 

The Widow’s armored catsuit wasn’t anything anyone recognized, but walking next to him made everyone assume that she was just a generic female spy to his Soldier. They both found that assumption deeply hilarious. The crazy part was he wasn’t even the only one dressed as the Winter Soldier. They ran into at least six others while they scouted out the convention grounds. 

Soon he’d see Steve again, and get in touch with the agents following him. After all, no one would look twice as someone dressed up as the Winter Soldier talking to some security guards at a convention. They’d be loath to start a fight for fear of either hurting civilians or causing a panic, and he could easily slip away in the vast crowds. Seeing Steve was going to be the cherry on top of the whole experience. 

When they were stopped for the hundredth time for yet another picture, the Soldier had to hold back a sigh.

“Your outfit is _amazing_ , oh my god!” The young woman taking the photo practically squeaked in delight. 

“Thank you,” he said politely, and posed with the Widow again. It took them five minutes to move on to the next area, because as soon as they stopped for one picture, dozens of other people came up wanting one as well. 

“I think it’s nice,” the Widow said with a smirk as they blended into the crowd. She must have sensed his irritation with being stopped so often. Being incredibly perceptive was just one of her many skills.

And it was nice, kind of. Extremely strange to see so many people flock to him with smiles and cameras rather than run screaming. More so to be one with the crowd while dressed for combat, wandering around in full mask and goggles with no one the wiser. 

Yet another person wandered by and complimented him on his incredibly realistic metal arm. He tried to keep the plates mostly locked up, just to make sure no one got particularly suspicious, but it was a bit of a challenge. He liked being able to move his limb at will. 

“You got the tickets?” he asked. 

She waved their VIP passes at him and gave him a _bitch, please_ look. They were all set up to get an early seat at Steve’s panel promoting the next Captain America movie. So far the guest list had Steve, Stark, Odinson, the directors, Anthony and Joseph Russo, and a new cast member, Sharon Carter. 

The Soldier was ridiculously excited to see Steve again, even if actual contact wasn’t planned for this meeting. It would be enough to go and see him in person. 

“Stop, I can actually hear you pining.” Widow rolled her eyes at him. There was a hint of a smile on her face though, so the Soldier knew she was still just giving him shit. It was kind of her to leave that hint of a smile on her face at all. That was a novelty he’d really come to enjoy; both her allowing expression that wasn’t part of a cover, and him returning it. She couldn’t see his raised eyebrow under the goggles, but he tilted his head at her so she would know he was giving her a _look_. 

Slowly but surely they made their way over to the correct hall, and got into the VIP line. Excitement bubbled up under the Soldier’s skin, and he found himself shifting his arm plates without even thinking about it. It got him a fair bit of attention, but people seemed to think it was a timed mechanism rather than an actual functioning prosthesis. Hiding the truth in plain sight. 

The Soldier found himself grinning under his mask. 

This was going to be great.

\--

Steve loved conventions.

They were a crazy hot mess and they nearly always left him exhausted and fighting off a cold of some kind. But they were also _incredibly fun_. Captain America fans were some of the best around. They dressed up, they created art and stories, and they were unbelievably excited and passionate about the idea of Captain America. Of all the legacies that Steve hoped to leave the world with, he was honored to know that so many people took the ideology of his movie character to heart. They tried to make the world a better place, even if it was only a tiny bit at a time. 

He was constantly in awe of their creativity and commitment. 

This particular convention was a big one; one of the very few he went to throughout the year. The studio required it, but Steve thought it was pretty fun to go to regardless. He and the rest of the cast present had been up for hours, first for autograph sessions, then a photo op, and now for the big panel. He was tickled to see so many people dressed up as Captain America, and even more excited to see people dressed up as the Winter Soldier, too. 

“You think your boo is gonna show?” Tony asked off stage. They had just a few minutes left before it was time to walk on. 

“You just want to see his metal arm again.” Steve smirked at him and raised an eyebrow.

“Duh.” Tony rolled his eyes, but then his gaze flickered around to the sides of the stage. Nervous, almost. That was so unlike him that Steve paused to look around himself.

“Everything okay, Tony?” Steve asked quietly, not wanting anyone else to hear.

“Yeah, yeah, fine, peachy keep, happy beans, whatever.” Tony’s eyes kept moving around. Steve just looked at him. Finally, Tony seemed to realize that Steve was still staring at him. He sighed and shifted closer, casual like. “You know I’ve got some… connections, yeah?” Steve nodded. “Well, something is up with them. Something is off.”

“Shield is bugging you, too, huh?” Steve asked.

Tony turned to stare at him. “What. How.”

“Tony. I’m an actor, not an idiot. Coulson and his little band of wire tappers get squirrely as hell around you, especially that hacker of his.” Said band of agents were already dispersed around the hall, Steve was certain of it. They’d been following him around for weeks like he was dropping gold coins every time he took a step. At this point, he mostly just went about his business. That didn’t mean he didn’t notice them around. “You’ve let me hang out in your workshop. I’m not a genius, but I know the stuff your doing is way the hell beyond what anyone else can dream about. That had to have garnered you some attention. Besides, I’m sure they came to bug you after you got a chance to look at the Soldier’s arm up close and personal.”

That netted him a little laugh and a rueful smile. “Yeah, well. I have incentive. Which, no, I am not talking about now. Later we’ll get smashed and hug it out. But for right now…” He ran his tongue over his teeth.

“Something is off.” Steve said, nodded. The thing was, Tony might be eccentric. He might even be a little crazy. But he was the smartest damn person Steve knew, and if he thought something was about to go south, it probably was. More than that, Steve trusted him to know his business. “Let me know if I can help.”

“Just like that?” Tony looked at him curiously.

“Yeah. Just like that.” Steve grinned, and slapped him on the shoulder. 

And then the announcer was calling his name. Right before he stepped out onto the stage, Tony held him back, then pulled the Captain America shield out from under his pile of personal belongings. “Don’t forget your shield, Cap. Remember, it’s, uh, stronger than it looks.” 

Then Tony gave him the smuggest smirk ever and pushed him out on stage.

While that was weird as hell, Steve had an audience to play to. He beamed a smile out at the crowded room filled with a few thousand fans, waved, and made his way up to his seat.

\--

The first half of the panel was general information about the coming movie. As interesting as it was, the Soldier was grateful he was wearing his goggles and mask. It meant he could scan the room without bringing any notice to himself. 

As soon as both he and Natasha sat down at their reserved seats in the VIP section, they noticed that the security team seemed to be divided into three separate groups, though they all wore the same gear. The first team had to be convention security. They looked too much like Rent-a-Cops. The second team was obviously Shield agents pretending to be convention security; the air of competence was a dead give away. The third team was an unknown. 

The third team was also slowly moving up towards the stage.

The Soldier had originally planned to just watch the panel, and then he and the Widow would approach one of the Shield agents afterwards. But now… This changed things. 

“Go get in line to ask a question,” the Widow said quietly, covertly tracking the progress of one of the unknown agents along the wall. 

He nodded and went immediately. There were enough people already lined up that he knew he’d be there for most of the panel, inching his way closer to the stage, no one the wiser. Hell, he passed within inches of the very people he and the Widow were watching. 

“ID?” the Widow asked, her voice piped into his earbud. 

“Not Shield. They move wrong for Shield. They’re trained, and trained well. No distinct markings. Not CIA or FBI. If they were making a move, they’d do it somewhere private. Or make it an official thing. No need to hide in plain sight like these guys are doing. Doesn’t move like foreign intelligence, either. No visible markings aside from standard convention security jackets and badges. All armed with sidearms and tasers.” He kept his voice low. Given the crowd and his mask, he knew no one would be able to hear him except for the Widow. They’d done this trick before, many, many times. Working together for the past several weeks had only increased that fluid connection between them. 

They did so well together that the Soldier had to believe that they’d worked fairly frequently together sometime in the past. Both of them had their memories scrambled over the years, but he could tell she was thinking it, too. Whatever additional baggage that came with, it meant that they could neatly anticipate the other’s needs and reactions. A spy and an assassin made a very balanced team. 

“Same on this side.” She’d gotten into the other question line, to cover the far side of the room. Between the two of them, they’d be able to swiftly neutralize anyone who tried something stupid. “You think it’s Hydra?”

That was a possibility. They could use the audience as cover and play off anything they did as part of an ‘act’, and then disappear into the crowds. Just like the Soldier and the Widow were planning on doing. 

“Seems likely. You think they’re here for Stark?” the Soldier asked. After all, Stark had said he was hunting them down, too. Right now he’d be vulnerable. None of his tech was there, at least as far as the Soldier could see, and he’d probably be reluctant to get into a weapons heavy fight with so many civilians in the room.

“Or Steve. You’ve shown up to see him twice now. That’s enough to be leverage.” 

Thinking about it made the Soldier snarl into his mask, and he was grateful once again that no one else could see his expression.

As they discussed options, the information portion of the panel flew by incredibly quickly. Soon the fans in the question lines were slowly shuffling closer. So, too, were the unknown agents. By the time the Soldier was nearly to the front mic, they were circling the stage. 

He was so caught up with watching them that he forgot he was in line to actually talk to people. 

“Hi there-oh holy crap that’s the coolest Winter Soldier costume I’ve seen yet,” the panel moderator said with awe. 

The Soldier brought his attention back to the stage, and nodded his head to them. “Thank you.”

“Seriously, that is amazing,” Steve said, and the rest of the panel nodded along with him. “Hey, you wanna come up here so everyone else can see this? It’s unreal.”

“Awww, Stevie,” the Soldier said with a smirk. “Such a sweet talker, you.”

All the blood seemed to drain out of Steve’s face and he dropped his jaw. “Soldier?”

That was when all hell broke loose. 

The unknown agents started dropping convention security guards. One heartbeat after the first two dropped, the Soldier had his own guns drawn. He dashed towards the wall, shooting one in the shoulder as he went. Rather than stopping, he lept upwards and forward, hitting the wall about eight feet up, and then propelling himself onto the stage. 

He landed in a roll, and came up shooting. The Soldier positioned himself so that his back was to Steve, and he was facing down the people trying to climb up onto the stage. 

Convention security was dropping without much of a fight; they weren’t armed with anything more potent than a taser. The Shield agents fared slightly better. They at least had armor on and knew how to get out of the way. 

What was bizarre was the crowd was _cheering_. Just screaming and gasping with glee. 

_They must think this is part of the show_ , he thought, incredulous. It was actually kind of surprising that their plan actually worked. What kind of shows did this convention regularly have that this seemed like a cool set piece? 

Agent Coulson ran on stage with his gun drawn. Interestingly, he put himself side to side with the Soldier, his back to the actors.

“Soldier, as much as I appreciate your intervention, I don’t suppose you’d mind putting away the guns?” That guy had balls of solid brass, because he didn’t even sound phased. 

The Soldier could already see that the Widow was using her stun batons rather than guns. Already there was a small pile of groaning, unhappy enemy agents on the floor around her. 

“They have guns.” He took another two shots, dropping another two enemies. “Why can’t we have guns?” Another three shots, and this time he was courteous enough to shoot them in the arms and legs. “There. Look. Leg shots. Feel better now?”

“Much, thank you.” Coulson smiled warming at him, and took a shot of his own.

“You’re using guns! How fair is that?!” the Soldier protested.

“We have ICER rounds. Similar to tranq darts, but way, way cooler.” Coulson sounded particularly pleased with this fact. The Soldier didn’t blame him. That did sound pretty neat.

Now that the Soldier looked, the bullet spray did glow a weird blue color. “Ooo. _Oooooooo_.” That was sexy as fuck. The Soldier wanted one. Or five. 

The argument became a moot point as enemy agents jumped up onto the stage and tried to bull rush them. A feral grin crossed the Soldier’s face, and he dived into them. 

It only took fifteen seconds to drop the first wave. All the while, he was mindful that his potential new boss probably wouldn’t want him dismembering people on a stage while being watched by thousands of people. 

Probably. 

So the Soldier kept his attacks to just physically punishing ones. He aimed for knees, elbows, and shoulders, slamming his metal fist into those tender areas. Breaking a critical joint like that was just as effective as a gunshot, and far, far worse to recover from. Soon he also had a small collection of moaning, crying bodies around him. As he fought, additional Shield agents ran on behind him, offering their boss cover and trying to make their way to the actors. 

He could see the Widow up on the other side of the stage, taking down another group of her own. One made a break for the center stage, dashing forward and taking a shot at Steve with his taser. Funny enough, Steve managed to block it with the Captain America Shield. The Soldier took a second to beam at him. 

_Well done, Stevie._

Before the enemy agent could take a second shot, maybe at someone else on the panel, the Widow charged him. 

If it were the Soldier, he would have done a bull rush, using sheer strength to knock the man off his feet. But this was the Black Widow, and she had more than strength in her arsonal. The moment she got in range, she grabbed his shoulders, lifted herself up, and wrapped her legs around his neck. Then she followed that momentum through to throw him to the ground with strength of her body alone. It only took a second. Then she was standing and he wasn’t. 

One of the Shield agents standing behind Coulson, a young dark haired girl, suddenly said, “That was the hottest thing I have ever seen oh my god I said that outloud.”

The Soldier and Coulson both snorted in amusement and shared a look.

Another wave hit, and then the Soldier was too busy to laugh. The Shield agents pulled back a bit, and were concentrating on just guarding the panel members. That was fine with the Soldier. It gave him more room to move, and besides, he and the Widow were cleaning things up nicely. 

Several punches, some kicks, and a few well placed throwing knives later, and the mayhem was done. Slowly writhing bodies littered the stage, and Shield agents quickly moved to drag them away from the crowds. 

The audience _roared_ their approval. The Soldier was left standing there next to the Widow, looking out over the cheering fans. He looked over at her. She just smirked at him, and holstered her stun batons. 

Sometime during the fight, the table the actors had been sitting at was upturned on its side, and the various members of the panel were just now peeking their heads over the top. Steve had his shield held up. Interestingly, Stark had a metal gauntlet held up, too, palm out. The very center of the palm glowed with a blue light; the Soldier recognized it as part of the weapons system for the robot suit. 

To the Soldier’s vast surprise, the bulk of the Shield agents basically ignored him and the Widow. They were too busy dealing with the enemy agents, securing the panel members, and making sure the crowd was well in hand. Coulson was right there, though, watching the Soldier and the Widow. He hadn’t holstered his gun, but he wasn’t holding it up to them either.

“So. Agent Coulson.” The Soldier looked at him, tilting his head. “Rumor has it there’s a deal you’re offering. That you might maybe want some extra agents.”

“That is a fact,” Coulson said with an easy smile. “We have a great benefits package. 401k. Dental. Free weapon upgrades.”

“Amnesty for past crimes, and personal autonomy,” the Soldier added.

“Of course. And for your friend, too? That’s the Black Widow if I’m not mistaken.” He nodded to the Widow. She winked at him in return. “Two of the best intelligence agents in the world? Yeah, Shield has a place for you.”

“You need to do a little cleaning house,” the Soldier warned. “There’s plenty of Hydra left, and some of them are in your own house.”

Now Coulson’s smiled faded. “I’m aware, and I’m concerned that this event is related to that fact. We could use a hand sorting it out, though.”

Before the Soldier could answer, Steve stepped over. He was still wearing the Captain America shield. The damn thing didn’t even have a dent on it. The Soldier was impressed. Maybe Stark made it. That would make sense.

“Hey there, Soldier,” Steve said. Those words actually carried, too. The mic on his shirt must have been still working. 

“Hi, Stevie.” The Soldier couldn’t help but smile. God, he looked beautiful. “So, it turns out I might have a new line of work.” His words were softer, but echoed over the mic as well. At the moment, he couldn’t find it in himself to even give a fuck. 

“Yeah?” Steve grinned and stepped a little closer. 

“Yeah.” The Soldier took off his goggles. The stage lights hurt for a moment, but it was good, so very good to see Steve without the filtered lenses on. 

“Does that mean you might have time for dinner? With me?” Steve looked at him hopefully, and the crowd ooooooOOOOOOoo’d. 

Steve had asked him to dinner. He’d watch the Soldier just lay waste to a group of armed men, fighting with brutal efficiency. And he wasn’t scared. Or worried. Or upset. He wanted to go on a fucking date. 

Holy fuck, the Soldier thought he might be in love.

He flexed his fingers, recalibrating his arm. Then he took off his mask and tossed it to the Widow. Steve’s eyes widened, and his smile stretched a little wider. 

For once, the Soldier didn’t bother resisting what he wanted. He just leaned in and kissed those beautiful, plush lips. It was sweet and wet and warm and everything he’s imagined it would be. He cradled Steve’s jaw with his metal hand. It was made to be an instrument of destruction, but Steve never saw it that way. To Steve, it was beautiful. Something that could help other people. That was why he’d made his charity, after all. Because he saw the Soldier’s arm and some something that could help people.

The kiss deepened for just a moment, and then the Soldier pulled back. He felt like his face would break open with how wide he was smiling. 

“Is that a yes, Soldier?” Steve asked, breathless. His cheeks glowed and his eyes sparkled. The Soldier could feel Steve’s pulse pounding under his sensitive fingers, it’s rhythm a match for his own. 

“Yeah, Stevie. That’s a yes. And call me Bucky.” It was a risk, a gamble to say his name like that. But it felt right. More importantly, he wanted Steve to know. He wanted everyone to know. He wanted to be a person again, and not just a weapon.

Steve’s answering smile was radiant, and it warmed him to his toes.

“Bucky it is,” Steve said, and then he leaned back in for another kiss.

\--The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ich dreh ein Ründchen auf dem Laufsteg = I do my little turn on the catwalk
> 
> Блин, какой милый! = Damn, how cute! 
> 
> These phrases were verified by actual native speakers, so THANK YOU to Trishargh, Lorien, and RemingtonFae for helpin' me out!
> 
> Thanks for reading :)


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